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WHY LINCOLN 
LAUGHED 



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Books by 
RUSSELL H. CONWELL 

WHY LINCOLN LAUGHED 

EFFECTIVE PRAYER 

ACRES OF DIAMONDS. 

HOW A SOLDIER MAY SUCCEED AFTER 

THE WAR OB The Corpoeal with the Book 
OBSERVATION: EVERY MAN HIS OWN 

UNIVERSITY. 
WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH YOUR WILL 

POWER 



HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK 
Established 1817 




vx^^!^^^--^^^^^-^ ^^^ivc^TzS * 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 



WHY 
LINCOLN LAUGHED 

By 
RUSSELL H. CONWELL 

Author of 
"ACRES OF DIAMONDS" 




Harper & Brothers Publishers 

New York and London 

MCMXXll 



.C7fc 



Why Lincoln Laughed 



Copyright, 1922. by Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the United States of America 



FEB -2 1922 
©CI.AS54491 



CONTENTS 



CHAP. 


Foreword 


PAOB 

vii 


I. 


When Lincoln Was Laughed At . 


1 


II. 


President aj^d Pilgrim .... 


24 


m. 


Lincoln Reads Artemus Ward 






Aloud 


38 


IV. 


Some Lincoln Anecdotes 


51 


V. 


W^HAT Made Him Laugh .... 


64 


VI. 


Humor in the Political Situation 


82 


VII. 


Why Lincoln Loved Laughter 


115 


VIII. 


Lincoln and John Brown . . . 


127 



FOREWORD 

Abraham Lincoln wrote to his law part- 
ner, William Henry Herndon, that "the 
physical side of Niagara Falls is really a 
very small part of that world's wonder. Its 
power to excite reflection and emotion is 
its great charm." That statement might 
fittingly be applied to Lincoln himself. 
One who lived in his time, and who has 
read the thousand books they say have 
been written about him in the half century 
since his death, may still be dissatisfied 
with every description of his personality 
and with every analysis of his character. 
He was human, and yet in some mysteri- 
ous degree superhuman. Nothing in 
philosophy, magic, superstition, or relig- 
ion furnishes a satisfactory explanation to 
the thoughtful devotee for the inspiration 
he gave out or for the transfiguring glow 
[vii] 



Foreword 

which at times seemed to ilhimine his 
homely frame and awkward gestures. 

The Hbraries are stocked with books 
about Lincoln, written by historians, 
poets, statesmen, relatives, and political 
associates. Why cumber the shelf with 
another sketch? 

The answer to that reasonable question 
is in the expressed hope that great thinkers 
and sincere humanitarians may not give 
up the task of attempting to set before the 
people the true Lincoln. One turns away 
from every volume, saying, "I am not yet 
acquainted with that great man." Hence, 
books like this simple tale may help to 
keep the attention of readers and writers 
upon this powerful character until at last 
some clear and satisfactory portrayal may 
be had by the interested readers among 
all nations. 

Neither bronze nor canvas nor marble 

can give the true image. Perhaps the more 

exact the portrait or statue in respect to 

his physical appearance the less it will 

[ viii ] 



Foreword 

exhibit the real personality. All pictures 
of Abraham Lincoln fail to represent the 
man as he was. The appearance and the 
reality are at irreconcilable variance. 

Heredity may be a large factor in the 
making of some great men, and education 
may be the chief cause for the influence of 
other great men. But there are only a few 
great characters in whose lives both of 
those advantages are lost to sight in the 
view of their achievements. 

Genius is often defined with complacent 
assurance as the ability and disposition to 
do hard work. That is frequently the truth; 
but it is not always the truth. Abraham 
Lincoln did much of many kinds of hard 
work, but that does not account for his 
extraordinary genius. He had the least to 
boast of in his family inheritance. His 
school education was of the most meager 
kind, and he had more than his share of 
hard luck. His most difficult task was to 
overcome his awkward manners and un- 
gainly physique. His life, therefore, pre- 
lix] 



Foreword 

sents a problem worthy the attention of 
philanthropic scientists. 

Can he be successfully imitated? "Why 
did his laugh vibrate so far, and why was 
his humor so inimitable? If the sugges- 
tions made in this book will aid the inves- 
tigator in finding an answer to these ques- 
tions it will justify the venturesomeness of 
this volume in appearing upon the shelf 
with such a great company of the works 
of greater authors. 

Russell H. Conwell. 



Philadelphia, January, 



WHY LINCOLN 
LAUGHED 



WHY LINCOLN 
LAUGHED 

Chapter I: When Lincoln Was 
Laughed At 

LINCOLN loved laughter; he loved 
to laugh himself and he liked to 
hear others laugh. All who knew 
him, all who have written of him, from 
John Hay, years ago, to Harv^ey O'Higgins 
in his recent work, tell how, in the darkest 
moments our country has ever known, 
Lincoln would find time to illustrate his 
arguments and make his points by nar- 
rating some amusing story. His humor 
never failed him, and through its help he 
was able to bear his great burden. 
I first met Lincoln at the White House 
II] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

during the Civil War. To-day it seems 
almost impossible that I shook his hand, 
heard his voice, and watched him as he 
laughed at one of his own stories and at 
the writings of Artemus Ward, of which 
he was so fond. Yet, as I remember it, 
I did not feel at that time that I was in 
the presence of a personality so extraor- 
dinary that it would fascinate men for 
centuries to come. I was a young man, 
and it was war time; perhaps that is the 
reason. On the contrary, he seemed a 
very simple man, as all great men are — 
I might almost say ordinary, throwing his 
long leg over the arm of the chair and 
using such commonplace, homely language. 
Indeed, it was hard to be awed in the 
presence of Lincoln; he seemed so ap- 
proachable, so human, simple, and genial. 
Did he use his humor to disarm opposi- 
tion, to gain good will, or to throw 
a mantle around his own melancholy 
thoughts? Did he believe, as Mark 
Twain said, that "Everything human is 
[2] 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

pathetic; the secret source of humor is 
not joy, but sorrow?" I am sure I cannot 
say. I only know that humor to Lincoln 
seemed to be a safety valve without which 
he would have collapsed under the crush- 
ing burden which he carried during the 
Civil War. 

Until he was twenty-four and was ad- 
mitted to the bar, he was a quiet, serious, 
brooding young fellow, but apparently he 
discovered the effectiveness of humor, for 
he began using it when he was arguing 
before the court. Some of his contempo- 
raries say that he was humorous in the 
early part of his life, but that, as time 
went on and he gained confidence through 
success, he used humor less and less in his 
public utterances. This is partly true, for 
there is no trace of humor in his presi- 
dential addresses. But that he was 
humorous in his daily life and that he 
continued to read and laugh over the 
many jokes he read is too obvious to deny. 
You cannot think of Lincoln without think- 
[3] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

ing at the same time of that very American 
trait which he possessed and which seems 
to spring from and within the soil of the 
land — homely humor. 

One day when I was at the WTiite House 
in conversation with Lincoln a man 
bustled in self -importantly and whispered 
something to him. As the man left the 
room Lincoln turned to me and smiled. 

"He tells me that twelve thousand of 
Lee's soldiers have just been captured," 
Lincoln said. "But that doesn't mean 
anything; he's the biggest liar in Wash- 
ington. You can't believe a word he says. 
He reminds me of an old fisherman I used 
to know who got such a reputation for 
stretching the truth that he bought a pair 
of scales and insisted on weighing every 
fish in the presence of witnesses. 

"One day a baby was born next door, 
and the doctor borrowed the fisherman's 
scales to weigh the baby. It weighed 
forty-seven pounds." 

Lincoln threw back his head and 
[4] 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

laughed; so did I. It was a good story. 
Now what do you think of this? Only 
recently I picked up a newspaper and 
read that same Lincoln anecdote, and it 
was headed, *'A New Story." 

It was in connection with a death sen- 
tence that I first went to call upon Presi- 
dent Lincoln. This was in December, 
1864. I was a captain then in a Massa- 
chusetts regiment brigaded with other 
regiments for the work of the North Caro- 
lina coast defense, under command of Gen. 
Benjamin F. Butler. A young soldier and 
boyhood playmate of mine from Vermont 
had been sentenced by court martial to 
be shot for sending communications to the 
enemy. What had actually happened was 
this. The fighting at that time in our part 
of the country was desultory — a matter 
of skirmishes only. As must inevitably 
happen, even between hostile bodies of 
men speaking the same language, a certain 
amount of "fraternizing" (although that 
word was not used then) went on between 
2 [5] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

the outposts and pickets of the opposing 
forces. In some cases the pickets faced one 
another on opposite sides of a narrow 
stream. Often this would continue for 
days or weeks, the same men on the same 
posts, and something very like friendship 
— the friendship of respectful enemies — 
would spring up between individuals in 
the two camps. They would sometimes 
go so far as to exchange little delicacies, 
tobacco and the like, across the line, No 
Man's Land, as it was called in the last 
war. In some places the practice actually 
sprang up of whittling little toy boats 
and sailing them across a stream, carry- 
ing a tiny freight. This act was usually 
reciprocated to the best of his pitiful 
ability by Johnny Reb on the opposite 
bank. 

The custom served to while away the 
tedious hours of picket duty, and it is 
doubtful if any of these young fellows 
thought of their acts as constituting a 
serious military offense. But such in fact 
[61 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

it was; and when my young friend was 
caught red-handed in the act of sending 
a Northern newspaper into the Rebel hues 
he was straightway brought to trial on the 
terrible charge of corresponding with the 
enemy. He was found guilty and sen- 
tenced to be shot. 

When the time for the execution of this 
sentence had nearly arrived I determined, 
as a last resort, to go and lay the case 
before the President in person, for it was 
evident, from the way matters had gone, 
that no mercy could be hoped for from any 
lesser tribunal. Fortunately, I was able 
to secure a few days' leave of absence. I 
made the trip up to Hampton Roads by 
way of the old Dismal Swamp Canal. 
Hampton Roads was by this time under 
undisputed control of the Union forces, 
naval and military, and Fortress Monroe 
was, in fact. General Butler's headquarters. 

From this point it was a simple, if some- 
what tedious, matter to get to Washington. 
But for one young officer the trip went all 
[7] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

too quickly. The nearer loomed the 
nation's capital and the culmination of 
his momentous errand the more he became 
amazed at his own temerity, and it re- 
quired the constant thought of a gray- 
haired mother, soon to be broken hearted 
by sorrow and disgrace, to hold him stead- 
fast to his purpose. 

I had seen Lincoln only once in my life, 
and that was merely as one of the audience 
in Cooper Union, in New York, when he 
delivered his great speech on abolition. 
That had taken place on February 17, 
1860, nearly five years before — long enough 
to make many changes in men and nations 
— yet the thought of that tall, awkward 
orator with his total lack of sophistication 
and his great wealth of human sympathy 
did much to hearten me for the coming 
interview. Unconsciously, as the miles 
jolted past in my journey to Washington, 
my mind slipped back over those five tre- 
mendous years and I seemed to live again 
the events, half pitiful, but wholly amaz- 
[8] 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

ing, of that great meeting in the great 
auditorium of old Cooper Union. 

At that time I was a school-teacher from 
the Hampshire highlands of the Berkshire 
Hills, and a neighbor of William Cullen 
Bryant. Through his kindness, my brother, 
who was also a teacher, and myself received 
an invitation to hear this speech by a 
then little-known lawyer from the West. 
We were told at the hotel that the Cooper 
Union lectures were usually discussions on 
matters of practical education, and we 
therefore used our tickets of admission 
more out of deference to Mr. Bryant for 
his kindness than from any interest in 
the debate. 

When we approached the entrance to 
the building, however, we were soon aware 
that something unusual was about to hap- 
pen. On the corner of the street near by 
we were accosted by a crowd of young 
roughs who demanded of us whether or 
not we were "nigger men." We thought 
that the roughs meant to ask if we were 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

black men, and answered decidedly, "No!" 
What the mob meant to ask was, were we 
in favor of freeing the negroes. Acting, 
therefore, upon the innocent answer, they 
thrust into our hands two dry onions, with 
the withered tops still adhering to the 
bulbs, while the ragged crowd yelled, 
"Keep 'em under yer jacket and when 
yer hear the five whistles throw them at 
the feller speakin'." 

My brother and I took the onions, un- 
conscious of the meaning of such strange 
missiles, and entered the hall with the 
crowd. There was great excitement, and 
yet we could not understand why, for no 
one seemed to know even the name of the 
speaker. 

"Who is going to speak?" was the ques- 
tion asked all round us, which we asked 
also, although we had heard the unfamiliar 
name of Lincoln. 

In one part of the hall we heard several 
vociferous answers: "Beecher! Beecher!" 
and some of the crowd seemed satisfied 
[10] 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 



&' 



that the great preacher was to be the ora- 
tor of the evening. Two burly policemen 
pushed into the corner from which the 
noisiest tumult came, and we began to 
surmise that those onions were "concealed 
weapons" and that the best policy was to 
be sure to keep them concealed. Many 
descriptions of that audience have been 
given by men from various viewpoints, 
but few have emphasized the important 
fact that when the people entered the hall 
the large majority were bitterly opposed 
to the abolitionists' cause. One-third of 
the audience was seemingly intent on 
mobbing the speaker, for some of the men 
carried missiles more offensive than onions. 
Mark Twain sagaciously wrote that the 
trouble with old men's memories is that 
they remember so many things "that 
ain't so." That warning may often be 
useful, even to those who are the most 
confident that their memories are infalli- 
ble, but I should like to say, and quite 
modestly, that I still have a clear vision 
[11] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

of that startling occasion and can testify 
to what I saw, heard, and felt in that hall 
on that memorable evening. 

I had previously read and studied the 
great models of eloquence, and was then 
in New York, using my carefully hoarded 
pennies to hear Henry Ward Beecher, Dr. 
R. S. Stone, Doctor Storrs, Doctor Bel- 
lows, Archbishop McCloskey, and other 
orators of current fame. I had studied 
much for the purpose of teaching my 
classes, from the great models, from Cicero 
to Daniel Webster, and I had found my 
ideal in Edward Everett. But those two 
hours in Cooper Union; like a sudden 
cyclone, were destined to shatter all my 
carefully built theories. After nearly 
sixty-two years of bewilderment I am still 
asking, "What was it that made that 
speech on that night an event of such 
world-wide importance?" It was not the 
physical man; it was not in what he said. 
Let us with open judgment meditate on 
the facts. 

[12] 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

The persons in the audience, and their 
city, as well, were antagonistic to Lincoln's 
party associates. The negro-haters had 
seemingly pre-empted the hall. Stories of 
negro brutality had been published in the 
papers of that week. Lincoln was regarded 
as an adventurer from the "wild and 
woolly West." He was expected to be an 
extremist. He was crude, unpolished, hav- 
ing no reputation in the East as a scholar. 
He was not an orator and had the reputa- 
tion of being only a homely teller of 
grocery-store yarns. His voice was of a 
poor quality, grinding the ears sharply. 
He seemed to be a ludicrous scarecrow 
rival of the great gentleman, scholar, and 
statesman, William H. Seward. Even 
Lincoln's own party in New York City 
bowed religiously to Seward, the idol of 
New York State. The Quakers and the 
adherents of the pro-slavery party were 
conscientiously opposed to war, especially 
against a civil war. 

We now know that Lincoln's speech had 
[13] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

been written in Illinois. As I saw him, on 
its delivery, he himself was trebly chained 
to his manuscript, by his own modest 
timidity, by the dictation of his party 
managers, and by the fact that when he 
spoke his written speech was already set 
up in type for the next morning's papers. 
In the chair on the platform as presiding 
oflScer sat the venerable poet of the New 
England mountains and the writer of keen 
political editorials. The minds of the in- 
telligent auditors began to repeat "Thana- 
topsis" or "The Fringed Gentian" as soon 
as they saw the noble old man. His cul- 
ture, age, reputation, dignified bearing, and 
faultless attire seemed in disparaging con- 
trast to the appearance of the young 
visitor beside him. In addition to Mr. 
Bryant, the stage setting included, on the 
other side of the slender guest, a very 
ponderous fat man, whose proportions, in 
their contrasting effect upon the speaker 
of the evening, made his thin form so tall 
as to bring to mind Lincoln's story of the 
[14] 



WTien Lincoln Was Laughed At 

man "so tall they laid him out in a rope 
walk." 

Lincoln himself was seated in a half- 
round armchair. His awkward legs were 
tied in a kind of a knot in the rungs of the 
chair. His tall hat, with his manuscript 
in it, was near him on the floor. The black 
fur of the hat was rubbed into rough 
streaks. One of his trousers legs was 
caught on the back of his boot. His coat 
was too large. His head was bowed and 
he looked down at the floor without lifting 
his eyes. 

Somebody whispered in one of the back 
seats, "Let's go home," and was answered, 
"No, not yet; there'll be fun here soon!" 

The entrance of the stranger speaker 
was greeted with neither decided nor 
hearty applause. In fact, the greeting for 
Mr. Bryant was far more enthusiastic. 
But there was a chilling formality in the 
effect of the whole of INIr. Bryant's intro- 
duction. Nothing worth hearing was ex- 
pected of the lank and uncouth stranger 
[15] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

— that was the impression made upon me. 
And when young Lincoln made an awk- 
ward gesture in trying to bow his thanlvs 
to Mr. Bryant, the audience began to 
smirk and giggle. Lincoln was evidently 
disturbed and felt painfully out of place. 
He seemed to be fearfully lacking in self- 
control and appeared to feel that he had 
made a ridiculous mistake in accepting 
such an invitation to such a place. One 
singular proof of Lincoln's nervousness 
was in the fact that he had forgotten to 
take from the top of his ear a long, black 
lead pencil, which occasionally threatened 
to shoot out at the audience. 

When I mentioned the pencil to Lincoln 
nearly five years later, he said that his 
absent-mindedness on that occasion re- 
called to him the story of an old English- 
man who was so absent-minded that when 
he went to bed he put his clothes carefully 
into the bed and threw himself over the 
back of his chair. 

When Mr. Bryant's introduction was 
f 16 1 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

concluded, Lincoln hesitated. He at- 
tempted to rise, and caught the toe of his 
boot under the rung of his chair. He ran 
his long j5ngers through his hair, which 
left one long tuft sticking up from the 
back of his head like an Indian's feather. 
He looked pale, and he unrolled his manu- 
script with trembling fingers. He began 
to read in a low, hollow voice that trem- 
bled from uncertainty and nervousness — 
so low, in fact, that the crowd at the rear 
of the hall could not hear, and shouted: 
"Louder! Louder!" 

At this the speaker's voice became a 
little stronger, and with this added strength 
came added confidence, so much so that 
there came suddenly a slight climax. The 
speaker looked up from his manuscript as 
though to note the effect of his words. 
But his eyes quickly dropped again to the 
paper in his shaking hands. The applause 
was fitful, and from the corner where the 
hoodlums were assembled came several 
distinct hisses. 

[17] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

When the audience finally began to 
make out what he was endeavoring to 
say about the signers of the Declaration 
of Independence and their opposition to 
the extension of human slavery, there was 
for a time respectful silence. 

How long the painful recital might have 
been permitted to continue no one can tell. 
The crowd, even that portion inclined to 
favor Lincoln's views, was growing in- 
creasingly restless. Half an hour had 
passed. The ordeal could not go on much 
longer. Suddenly a leaf from the speaker's 
manuscript accidentally and without his 
knowledge dropped to the floor. The 
moment he missed the leaf he turned a 
little paler than he had been and hesitated 
awkwardly. 

For a moment the audience felt keenly 
the embarrassment of the situation. But 
the pause was brief. With an honest 
gesture of impatience and a movement 
forward as if he were about to leap into 
the audience, Lincoln lifted his voice, 
[18] 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

swung out his long arms, and, as my 
brother remarked, "let himself go." 

Disregarding his written speech,^ Lin- 
coln launched into that part of the subject 
that was nearest his heart. In a voice 
that no longer was hollow or sepulchral, 
but rich and ringing, he denounced the 
institution of slavery. Yet he spoke of 
the South in the most affectionate terms. 
He said he loved the South, since "he was 
born there," but that he loved the Union 
more for what it had done united and 
what it was destined still to do united. 

Wave after wave of telling eloquence 
rolled forth from this uncouth, gaunt 
figure and literally dashed itself against 



* Charles Sumner said. In one of his great speeches in 
Fanueil Hall, Boston, that if the spfeech Lincoln carefully 
wrote had not been circulated, or if he had actually deliv- 
ered the speech which he wrote, the change of direction in 
the car of progress would have led to delays and disasters 
"out beyond the limits of human calculation." Many of 
the great historians like Hay, Brockett, McClure, and Miss 
Tarbell have overlooked or thrown aside the most wonder- 
ful portion of that speech where the disgusted orator lost 
his place because of a misplaced leaf of the manuscript 
from which he was reading. 

[19] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

the hard, resisting minds of that preju- 
diced audience. Aheady the feeble wits 
were engulfed in the overwhelming verbal 
torrents that came now like avalanches, 
and little by little even the most biased 
minds began to relent under the mystic 
persuasiveness of his voice and the unan- 
swerableness of his logic, until nearly 
everybody in that throbbing and excited 
audience was convinced that slavery was 
one of the blackest crimes of which man 
could be found guilty. And even before 
the last words of his impassioned eloquence 
had passed his lips the audience was on 
its feet, and those most bitterly opposed 
to him politically arose too and applauded 
him. 

Naturally, no verbatim report of that 
address can be recalled after sixty years. 
But the impression it made almost sur- 
passes belief when told to those who were 
not there. There is no clearer descriptive 
term which could be applied to the speaker 
than to state, as some did, that "the orator 
[20] 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

was transfigured." No one thought of his 
ill-fitting new suit, of his old hat, of his 
protruding wrists or the disheveled hair, 
of his long legs, his bony face, or the one- 
sided necktie. The natural Abraham Lin- 
coln had disappeared and an angel spake 
in his place. Nothing but language which 
seems extravagant will tell the accurate 
truth. 

All manner of theories were advanced by 
those who heard the speech to account for 
the gigantic mystery of eloquent power 
which he exhibited. One said it was mes- 
merism; another that it was magnetism; 
while the superstitious said there was "a 
distinct halo about his head" at one place 
in the speech. No analysis of the speech 
as he wrote it, nor any recollection of the 
words, shows anything remarkable in lan- 
guage, figures, or ideas. The subtle, mag- 
netic, spiritual force which emanated from 
that inspired speaker revealed to his audi- 
ence an altogether different man from the 
one who began to read a different speech. 
3 [211 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

He did not approach the dehcate sweetness 
of Mr. Bryant's words of introduction, or 
reach the imaginative scenes and noble 
company which characterized Beecher's 
addresses. Lincoln was less cutting than 
Wendell Phillips and had no definite style 
like Everett or Gough. As an orator he 
imitated no one, and surely no one could 
imitate him. Of the four Ohio voters who 
changed their votes in the Republican 
convention and made Lincoln's nomina- 
tion sure, two heard that Cooper Union 
speech and claimed sturdily that they 
knew "old Abe" was right, but could not 
tell why. 

Thus it appears throughout Lincoln's 
public life. He was larger than his task, 
wider than his party, ahead of his time as 
an inspired prophet, and he seemed to be 
a spiritual force without material limita- 
tions. He began to grow at his death, and 
is conquering now in lands he never saw 
and rules over nations which cannot pro- 
nounce his name. Such individual influ- 
[22 1 



When Lincoln Was Laughed At 

ence is next to the divine, and is of the 
same nature. Can we find a measure for 
such a man? 

These facts and these thoughts were in 
my mind as I traveled to Washington to 
intercede for my condemned comrade. 
Such was the man to whom I was going. 
But it was to Lincoln the commander-in- 
chief, and not to Lincoln the impassioned 
orator, that I must make my plea. 



Chapter II: President and Pilgrim 

THE reader will not be surprised to 
learn that getting into the presence 
of the President was np laughing 
matter, and that his own habit of occa- 
sionally using laughter during business 
hours did not always descend to those 
xmder him in the government. 

I arrived in Washington early on a crisp 
December morning, just a few days before 
Christmas. I went straightway to the old 
Ebbit House, which was then the fashion- 
able gathering place for military people 
stationed or sojourning in the capital. 
The contrast between "desk officers" and 
officers in the field was even greater then 
than in more recent days, because if the 
former were less smart in appearance than 
the modern "citified" officer, the latter 
were, as a rule, vastly more disheveled 
[24] 



President and Pilgrim 

and disreputable in appearance than one 
would find in any army of to-day on cam- 
paign. There were good reasons for this, 
of course, but they did not greatly help to 
increase the confidence of a decidedly 
"seedy "-looking young officer fresh from 
the swamps and thickets of North Caro- 
lina. I was glad to get away from the 
environs of the Ebbit House after a brief 
but very earnest effort to "spruce up." 

When the time at last arrived that the 
ordeal was directly ahead, I plucked up 
courage and walked up the footpath to the 
White House with a tolerably certain step. 
Even at the height of the war President 
Lincoln did not surround himself by the 
barriers which later Executives have found 
necessary. One simply went to the White 
House, stated his business, and waited his 
turn for an interview. 

Once inside that building, however, my 
earlier timidity returned tenfold. I had 
agreed that morning with the local corre- 
spondent of the New York Tribune to get 
[25 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

all the material I could from Lincoln for 
an interview for his paper. I trembled as 
with a chill when I told the doorkeeper 
that I wished to see the President, and 
when the official coldly ordered me to 
"come in and sit over there, in that row," 
I began to doubt whether I was to be 
arrested for intrusion. The anteroom was 
crowded with important-looking people, 
all waiting for an interview with Lincoln. 
I wondered if I would ever get within sight 
of his door. 

Presently, however, the President's per- 
sonal secretary entered the room, and pass- 
ing along the line of visitors with a note- 
book, asked each to state his business with 
the President. I showed my pass and in 
a few words explained my errand, even 
mustering up courage to emphasize the 
urgency of the case. 

The secretary disappeared, and there 

was an awkward half hour of waiting. 

Finally he returned by a side door and. 

calling out my name, directed me in au 

F261 



President and Pilgrim 

official way to "come in at once" ahead of 
all the others. When I had passed into the 
vestibule the secretary shut the reception- 
room door behind us and, pointing to a 
door at the other side of the room, said, 
hastily: "That is the President's door. 
Go over, rap on the door, and walk right 
in." He then hurried out at a side door 
and left me alone. 

Thus abandoned, I felt faint with terror, 
embarrassment, and conflicting decisions. 
It was a most painful ordeal to be left to 
go in alone to meet the august head of 
the nation — to rush alone into the privacy 
of the commander-in-cliief of all the loyal 
armies of the Union. It was an especially 
trying period of the war which we had 
just passed through. Sherman's march to 
the sea was still in progress. The Presi- 
dent had not yet received the historic tele- 
gram in which General Sherman offered 
him the city of Savannah as a Christmas 
gift, but he was well aware of the thorough 
devastation which that army left in its 
[27] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

wake; and while he understood its neces- 
sity, the thought filled him with deepest 
gloom. Hood's Confederate army, which 
threatened for a time to repeat the suc- 
cesses of General Kirby Smith, had been 
crushed in Tennessee, but only after a 
period of suspense which stretched the 
nerves of all in administration circles to 
within a degree of the breaking point. In 
addition to this the voices of the "defeat- 
ists" — "Copperheads," they were called 
then — were heard far and wide in the land, 
ranting and howling their demand for a 
peace which would have been premature 
and inconclusive. The cares and sorrows 
of the President had hardly been more 
severe during the most critical days of the 
war than they were in December, 1864 — 
it was the dark just before the dawn. 

Whether to turn and run for the street, 
to stand still, or to force myself to rap on 
that awful door was a question filling my 
soul with frightful emotions. I rubbed 
my head and walked several times across 



President and Pilgrim 

the vestibule to regain possession of my 
normal faculties. No one who has not 
been placed in such a startling situation 
can begin to realize what a stage-struck 
heartache afflicted me. I had been under 
fire and heard the shells crack and the 
bullets sing, but none of those experiences, 
so awful to a green soldier, had so filled 
my being with a desire to run away. But 
I recalled the fact that the President had 
the reputation of being a plain man to 
whom any citizen could speak on the street 
and was kind-hearted to an almost femi- 
nine degree, so I wiped my brow and at 
last drove myself over to the dooi-. There, 
with the desperation such as the suicide 
must feel as he leaps from the clifl, I rapped 
hesitatingly on the door. 

Instantly a strong voice from inside 
shouted, "Come in and sit down." It 
was a command rather than an invitation. 

I turned the knob weakly and entered, 
almost on tiptoe. There at the side of a 
long table sat the same lank individual 
[29 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

who spoke at the Cooper Union four years 
before. The pallor of his face and the 
prominence of the cheek bones seemed 
even more striking in contrast with the full 
beard than when he was clean shaven. 
But his hair was as sadly disturbed and 
his clothing had the same lack of style 
and fitness. An old gray shawl had fallen 
across one corner of the table, where also 
lay numerous rolls of papers. The Presi- 
dent did not look up when I stepped in 
and hesitatingly sat down in the chair 
nearest the door. 

That close application to the task before 
him was a characteristic of Lincoln which 
has not been emphasized by his biographers 
as it could and should have been. To 
quote his own words, whenever he read a 
book he "exhausted it." It seems to be 
the one great trait of character which lifted 
him above the common clay from which 
he came. Lincoln had no inheritance 
worth recording. He once wrote to his 
partner that what little talent, money, and 
[30 1 



President and Pilgrim 

learning he had was "purloined or picked 
up." 

Surely, never among the surprises which 
one finds in the history of this nation is 
there one more unaccountable than the 
career of Abraham Lincoln. How he first 
fonned the habit, or where he adopted his 
method of mental concentration, has not 
been revealed. The ability to focus one's 
whole mind on a single idea is not such an 
unattainable achievement. Perhaps it has 
no connection with genius in the true 
sense, but it serves to concentrate all the 
rays of mental light and power until they 
penetrate the hardest substances and ignite 
into explosion the latent power hitherto 
unguessed. 

There seems to be no other great quality 
in Lincoln's mentality, but that one may 
account for all in him that was above the 
normal. He could manage flatboats, split 
rails, endure fatigue, tell homely stories 
for illustration, and wait with unshakable 
patience, but his greatest achievement 
[31] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

was in the power he gained to think hard 
and long with his mind immovably con- 
centrated upon a difficult problem. 

That morning while I sat trembling by 
the door, the President read on with undis- 
turbed attention the manuscript before 
him, occasionally making notes on the 
margin of the paper. He did not lift his 
eyes or move in his seat, and it was not 
until he had read carefully the last sen- 
tence, had scribbled his name or initials 
at the bottom of the last page, and had 
tied the paper carefully wdth a string, that 
he looked up at his visitor. Then a smile 
came over the worn face, and as he pulled 
himself into his spring-backed chair he 
called out, cheerfully: 

"Come over to the table, young man. 
Glad to see you. But remember that I 
am a very busy man and have no time to 
spare; so tell me in the fewest words what 
it is you want." 

I took the seat at the table to which the 
President pointed, pulled out a copy of 
[32 1 



President and Pilgrim 

the record of tlie case, and read the soldier's 
name. The President stopped me almost 
sharply, saying: 

**0h, you don't need to read more about 
that case. Mr. Stanton and I talked over 
that report carefully last week!" 

Already my nervousness had been dis- 
pelled as if by magic. Indeed, the Presi- 
dent's cordial, familiar manner and ap- 
parent good will gave me the courage to 
remark that it was "almost time for that 
order to be carried out." For a moment 
Lincoln seemed to be offended by the hasty 
remark. Flinging himself back in his chair 
with an impatient gesture, he said: 

"You can go down to the Ebbit House 
now and write to that soldier's mother in 
Vermont and tell her the President told 
you that he never did sign an order to shoot 
a boy under twenty years of age and that 
he never wilir' 

As he uttered the last words of that re- 
mark he swung his long arms swiftly over 
his head and struck the table violently 
[33 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

with his fist. At that moment Lincoln's 
boy, "Tad," then eleven years old, slipped 
off a stool in the farther corner of the room, 
where he had been silently at play, and 
Lincoln turned anxiously around at the 
sound of his fall. Seeing that the little 
boy was unhurt, the President called: 

"Come here, Tad, I wish to introduce 
you to this soldier!" 

So quickly and easily had the purpose 
of my interview been accomplished that 
for a moment it left me dazed. But Lin- 
coln wanted no thanks. What was done 
was done, and the incident was closed. 
The name of my young soldier friend was 
not mentioned again in the course of what 
turned out to be a long and wonderful 
chat about subjects as alien to discipline 
as music, education, and the cultivation 
and use of humor. The President had a 
purpose in detaining m-e, though at first 
I did not perceive what this was. 

Without appearing in the least to see 
anything incongruous in the act — while a 
[34 1 



President and Pilgrim 

score of important callers waited in the 
anteroom — Lincoln threw his long arm 
about the little boy and plunged into a 
conversation of the most personal sort. 
He told me it was his ambition to carry 
on a farm, with Tad for a partner. He 
said that he had bought a farm at New 
Salem, Illinois, where he used to dig 
potatoes at twenty-five cents a day, and 
that Tad and he were to have mule teams 
and raise corn and onions. Then he smiled 
as he remarked, "IVlrs. Lincoln does not 
know anything about the plan for the 



onions." 



He said farming was, after all, the best 
occupation on earth. He then told a num- 
ber of incidents in his own life to illustrate, 
as he said, "How little I know about farm- 
ing!" The incidents were droll and full 
of wise suggestions, which wholly disarmed 
me until I laughed without reserve. 

Lincoln told of a visit Horace Greeley 
had made to the "VMiite House a few weeks 
before to enlighten the President on "What 
[35] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

I know about farming." Lincoln said he 
half believed the story about Greeley 
wherein it was said that he (Greeley) 
planted a long row of beans, and when in 
the process of first growth the beans were 
pushed bodily out of the ground, Greeley 
concluded that the beans "had made a 
blunder," and, pulling up each bean, he 
carefully turned it over with the roots 
sticking out in the air. 

The President then asked me if I was a 
farmer's boy, and when I answered that I 
was brought up on a farm in the Berkshire 
Hills he b'Tst out into strong laughter and 
said, "11 ir that you have to sharpen the 
noses of ^ e sheep up there to get them 
down to he grass between the rocks." 
Then the President, as his mind was led 
away from the awful cares of state, turned 
to a small side table and picked up a much- 
worn copy of the News Stand Edition of 
the Life and Sayings oj Artemus Ward. 
Both Ward and Lincoln were skilled story- 
tellers, and they were alike in their avoid- 
[36] 



President and Pilsrim 



i=>' 



ance of vulgar or low yarns. Lincoln was 
credited with thousands of yarns he never 
heard, and with thousands to which he 
would not have listened without giving a 
rebuke. Many of those at which he re- 
volted have been continued in print under 
his name. But Ward's speech concerning 
his visit to the President among the office- 
seeking crowd was to Lincoln's mind "a 
masterpiece of pure fun." 

As we sat there Lincoln opened Arte- 
mus Ward's book and read several things 
from it. Then closing it, he said, "Ward 

rests me more than any living man." 
4 



Chapter III: Lincoln Reads 
Artemus Ward Aloud 

THIS generation, whose taste in 
humor has naturally changed from 
that of Civil War times, is not very 
familiar with the stories of Artemus Ward. 
It will be well for the reader to bear this 
in mind in the pages that follow. 

One of the two stories Lincoln read by 
way of relaxation, as I have told in the 
preceding chapter, concerned the President 
himself. Here it is : 

HOW OLD ABE RECEIVED THE NEWS OF HIS 
NOMINATION 

There are several reports afloat as to 
how "Honest Old Abe" received the news 
of his nomination, none of which are cor- 
rect. We give the correct report. 

[38 1 



Lincoln Reads Artemus Ward Aloud 

The Official Committee arrived in 
Springfield at dewy eve, and went to Hon- 
est Old Abe's house. Honest Old Abe was 
not in. Mrs. Honest Old Abe said Honest 
Old Abe was out in the woods splitting rails. 
So the Official Committee went out into 
the woods, where, sure enough, they found 
Honest Old Abe splitting rails with his two 
boys. It was a grand, a magnificent spec- 
tacle. There stood Honest Old Abe in his 
shirt-sleeves, a pair of leather home-made 
suspenders holding up a pair of home-made 
pantaloons, the seat of which was neatly 
patched with substantial cloth of a dif- 
ferent color. "Mr. Lincoln, Sir, youVe 
been nominated. Sir, for the highest office, 
Sir — " "Oh, don't bother me," said Hon- 
est Old Abe; "I took a stent this mornin' 
to split three million rails afore night, and 
I don't want to be pestered with no stuff 
about no Conventions till I get my stent 
done. I've only got two hundred thousand 
rails to split before sundown. I kin do it 
if you'll let me alone." And the great man 
[39 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

went right on splitting rails, paying no 
attention to the Committee whatever. 
The Committee were lost in admiration for 
a few moments, when they recovered, and 
asked one of Honest Old Abe's boys whose 
boy he was? "I'm my parent's boy," 
shouted the urchin, which burst of wit so 
convulsed the Committee that they came 
very near "gin'in eout" completely. In a 
few moments Honest Ole Abe finished his 
task, and received the news with perfect 
self-possession. He then asked them up 
to the house, where he received them cor- 
dially. He said he split three million rails 
every day, although he was in very poor 
health. Mr. Lincoln is a jovial man, and 
has a keen sense of the ludicrous. During 
the evening he asked Mr. Evarts, of New 
York, "why Chicago was like a hen cross- 
ing the street?" Mr. Evarts gave it up. 
"Because," said Mr. Lincoln, "Old Grimes 
is dead, that good old man ! " This exceed- 
ingly humorous thing created the most 
uproarious laughter. 

[40 1 



Lincoln Reads Artemus Ward Aloud 

INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN 

I hav no politics. Not a one. I'm not 
in the bizniss. If I was I spose I should 
holler versiffrusly in the streets at nite 
and go home to Betsy Jane smellin of coal 
ile and gin, in the mornin. I should go to 
the Poles arly. I should stay there all day. 
I should see to it that my nabers was thar. 
I should git carriges to take the kripples, 
the infirm, and the indignant thar. I 
should be on guard agin frauds and sich. 
I should be on the look out for the infamus 
lise of the enemy, got up jest be4 elecshun 
for perlitical effeck. When all was over 
and my candy-date was elected, I should 
move heving & erth — so to speak — until 
I got orfice, which if I didn't git a orfice 
I should turn round and abooze the Ad- 
ministration with all my mite and maine. 
But I'm not in the bizniss. I'm in a far 
more respectful bizniss nor what pollertics 
is. I wouldn't giv two cents to be a Con- 
gresser. The wuss insult I ever received 
[41] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

was when sertin citizens of Baldinsville 
axed me to run fur the Legislate!. Sez I, 
"My f rends, dostest think I'd stoop to that 
there? " They turned as white as a sheet. 
I spoke in my most orfullest tones & they 
knowed I wasn't to be trifled with. They 
slunked out of site to onct. 

There4, havin no politics, I made bold 
to visit Old Abe at his humstid in Spring- 
field. I found the old feller in his parler, 
surrounded by a perfeck swarm of orfice 
seekers. Knowin he had been capting of 
a fiat boat on the roarin Mississippy I 
thought I'd address him in sailor hngo, so 
sez I, "Old Abe, ahoy! Let out yer main- 
suls, reef hum the forecastle & throw yer 
jib-poop over-board! Shiver my timbers, 
my harty!" [N. B. This is ginuine mari- 
ner langwidge. I know, becawz I've seen 
sailor plays acted out by them New York 
theater fellers.] Old Abe lookt up quite 
cross & sez, "Send in yer petition by & by. 
I can't possibly look at it now. Indeed, 
I can't. It's on-possible, sir!" 
[42] 



Lincoln Reads Artemus Ward Aloud 

"Mr. Linkin, who do you spect I air?" 
sed I. 

"A orfice-seeker, to be sure," sed he. 

"Wall, sir," sed I, "you's never more 
mistaken in your life. You hain't gut a 
orfiss I'd take under no circumstances. 
I'm A. Ward. Wax figgers is my per- 
feshun. I'm the father of Twins, and they 
look like me — both of them. I cum to pay 
a friendly visit to the President eleck of 
the United States. If so be you wants to 
see me, say so, if not, say so & I'm orf 
like a jug handle." 

"Mr. Ward, sit down. I am glad to 
see you, Sir." 

"Repose in Abraham's Buzzum!" sed 
one of the orfice seekers, his idee bein to 
git orf a goak at my expense. 

"Wall," sez I, "ef all you fellers repose 
in that there Buzzum thar'll be mity poor 
nussin for sum of you!" whereupon Old 
Abe buttoned his weskit clear up and 
blusht like a maidin of sweet 16. Jest at 
this pint of the conversation another 
[43] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

swarm of orfice-seekers arrove & cum pilin 
into the parler. Sum wanted post orfices, 
sum wanted coUectorships, sum wantid 
furrin missions, and all wanted sumthin. 
I thought Old Abe would go crazy. He 
hadn't more than had time to shake hands 
with 'em, before another tremenjis crowd 
cum pore in onto his premises. His house 
and dooryard was now perfeckly over- 
flowed with orfice seekers, all clameruss 
for a immejit interview with Old Abe. 
One man from Ohio, who had about seven 
inches of corn whisky into him, mistook 
me for Old Abe and addrest me as "The 
Pra-hayrie Flower of the West!" Thinks 
I you want a offiss putty bad. Another 
man with a gold-heded cane and a red nose 
told Old Abe he was "a seckind Washing- 
ton & the Pride of the Boundliss West." 

Sez I, "Square, you wouldn't take a 
small post -offiss if you could git it, would 

you.?" 

Sez he, "A patrit is abuv them things, 

sir!" 

[44] 



Lincoln Reads Artemus Ward Aloud 

"There's a putty big crop of patrits this 
season, ain't there, Squire?" sez I, when 
another crowd of offiss seekers pored in. 
The house, dooryard, barngs, woodshed 
was now all full, and when another crowd 
cum I told 'em not to go away for want 
of room as the hog-pen was still empty. 
One patrit from a small town in Michy- 
gan went up on top the house, got into 
the chimney and slid into the parler where 
Old Abe was endeverin to keep the hungry 
pack of orfice-seekers from chawin him up 
alive without benefit of clergy. The minit 
he reached the fireplace he jumpt up, 
brusht the soot out of his eyes, and yelled: 
"Don't make eny pintment at the Spunk- 
ville postoffiss till you've read my papers. 
All the respectful men in our town is sign- 
ers to that there dockyment!" 

"Good God!" cried Old Abe, "they cum 
upon me from the skize — down the chim- 
neys, and from the bowels of the yerth!" 
He hadn't more'n got them words out of 
his delikit mouth before two fat offiss- 
[45] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

seekers from Winconsin, in endeverin to 
crawl atween his legs for the purpuss of 
applyin for the tollgateship at Milwawky, 
upsot the President eleck, & he would hev 
gone sprawlin into the fireplace if I hadn't 
caught him in these arms. But I hadn't 
more'n stood him up strate before another 
man cum crashing down the chimney, his 
head strikin me viliently again the inards 
and prostratin my voluptoous form onto 
the floor. *'Mr. Linkin," shoutid the in- 
fatooated being, "my papers is signed by 
every clergyman in our town, and likewise 
the skoolmaster ! " 

Sez I, "You egrejis ass," gittin up & 
brushin the dust from my eyes, "I'll sign 
your papers with this bunch of bones, if 
you don't be a little more keerful how you 
make my bread basket a depot in the futur. 
How do 3^ou like that air perfumery?" sez 
I, shuving my fist under his nose. " Them's 
the kind of papers I'll giv you! Them's 
the papers you want!" 

"But I workt hard for the ticket; I 
[46 1 



Lincoln Reads Artemus Ward Aloud 

toiled niglit and day! The patrit should 
be rewarded!" 

"Virtoo," sed I, holdin' the infatooated 
man by the coat-collar, "virtoo, sir, is its 
own reward. Look at me!" He did look 
at me, and qualed be4 my gase. "The 
fact is," I continued, lookin' round on the 
hungry crowd, "there is scacely a offiss 
for every ile lamp carrid round durin' this 
campane. I wish thare was. I wish thare 
was furrin missions to be filled on varis 
lonely Islands where eprydemics rage in- 
cessantly, and if I was in Old Abe's place 
I'd send every mother's son of you to 
theui. What air you here for?" I contin- 
nered, warmin up considerable, "can't you 
giv Abe a minit's peace? Don't you see 
he's worrid most to death? Go home, you 
miserable men, go. home & till the sile! 
Go to peddlin tinware — go to choppin 
wood — go to bilin' sope — stuff sassengers 
— ^black boots — git a clerkship on sum re- 
spectable manure cart — ^go round as orig- 
inal Swiss Bell Ringers — becum *origenal 
[47 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

and only' Campbell Minstrels — go to lec- 
turin at 50 dollars a nite — imbark in the 
peanut bizniss — write for the Ledger — saw 
off your legs and go round givin concerts, 
with tuchin appeals to a charitable public, 
printed on your handbills — anything for 
a honest living, but don't come round here 
drivin Old Abe crazy by your outrajis 
cuttings up! Go home. Stand not upon 
the order of your goin', but go to onct! 
Ef in five minits from this time," sez I, 
pullin' out my new sixteen dollar huntin 
cased watch and brandishin' it before their 
eyes, "Ef in five minits from this time a 
single sole of you remains on these here 
premises, I'll go out to my cage near by, 
and let my Boy Constructor loose! & ef 
he gits amung you, you'll think old Sol- 
ferino has cum again and no mistake!" 
You ought to hev seen them scamper, 
Mr. Fair. They run of as tho Satun his- 
self was arter them with a red hot ten 
pronged pitchfork. In five minits the prem- 
ises was clear. 

[48] 



Lincoln Reads Artemus Ward Aloud 

"How kin I ever repay you, Mr. Ward, 
for your kindness?" sed Old Abe, advancin 
and shakin me warmly by the hand. 
"How kin I ever repay you, sir?" 

"By givin the whole country a good, 
sound administration. By poerin' ile upon 
the troubled waturs, North and South. 
By pursooin' a patriotic, firm, and just 
course, and then if any State wants to 
secede, let 'em Sesesh!" 

"How 'bout my Cabinit, Mister Ward?" 
sed Abe. 

"Fill it up with Showmen, sir! Show- 
men, is devoid of politics. They hain't 
got any principles. They know how to 
cater for the public. They know what the 
public wants, North & South. Showmen, 
sir, is honest men. Ef you doubt their 
literary ability, look at their posters, and 
see small bills! Ef you want a Cabinit as 
is a Cabinit fill it up with showmen, but 
don't call on me. The moral wax figger 
perfeshun mustn't be permitted to go down 
while there's a drop of blood in these vains! 
[49] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

A. Linkin, I wish you well ! E£ Powers or 
Walcutt wus to pick out a model for a 
beautiful man, I scarcely think they'd 
sculp you; but ef you do the fair thing by 
your country you'll make as putty a angel 
as any of us! A. Linkin, use the talents 
which Nature has put into you judishusly 
and firmly, and all will be well! A. Linkin, 
adoo!" 

He shook me cordyully by the hand — 
we exchanged picters, so we could gaze 
upon each others' Hniments, when far 
away from one another — he at the helium 
of the ship of State, and I at the helium 
of the show bizniss — admittance only 15 
cents. 



Chapter IV: Some Lincoln Anecdotes 

1ET us now get back to that room in 
the WTiite House again. After Lin- 
^ coin had finished reading from 
Ward's book we talked about the author. 

The two stories long accredited to Ward 
at which Mr. Lincoln laughed most heart- 
ily that day included the anecdote of the 
gray-haired lover who hoped to win a 
young wife and who, when asked by a 
neighbor how he was progressing with his 
suit, answered, with enthusiasm, "All 
right." 

When the neighbor then asked, "Has 
she called you * Honey' yet?" the old man 
answered, "Well, not exactly that, but she 
called me the next thing to it. She has 
called me 'Old Beeswax'!" 

Another story which Lincoln accredited 
to Ward had to do with a visit the latter 
[51] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

was supposed to have made in his country 
clothes and manners to a fashionable eve- 
ning party. Ward, not wishing to show the 
awkwardness he felt, stepped boldly up to 
an aristocratic lady and said, "You are 
a very handsome woman!" The woman 
took it to be an insulting piece of rude 
flattery and repKed, spitefully, "I wish I 
could say the same thing of you!" WTiere- 
upon Ward boldly remarked, "Well, you 
could if you were as big a liar as I am!" 

Ward once stated that Lincoln told him 
that he was an expert at raising corn to 
fatten hogs, but, unfortunately for his 
creditors, they were his neighbor's hogs. 

During this conversation the President 
sat leaning back in his desk chair with one 
long leg thrown over a corner of the Cabi- 
net table. He had removed his right cuff 
— I presume to be better able to sign his 
name to the various documents with which 
the table was littered — and he did not 
trouble to put it on again. He wore a 
black frock coat very wrinkled and shiny, 
\52] 



Some Lincoln Anecdotes 

and trousers of the same description. His 
necktie was black and one end of it was 
caught under the flap of his turnover 
collar. Yet his appearance did not give 
one an impression of disorder; rather 
he looked like a neat workingman of the 
better sort. 

As I sat talking with the President a 
strong light flooded the Cabinet Room 
through the great south windows. Out- 
side one could see the Potomac River 
sparkling in the bright winter sunshine. 
This strong illumination revealed the deep 
lines of the President's face. He looked 
so haggard and careworn after his long 
vigil (he had been at work since two 
o'clock in the morning) that I said: 

"You are very tired. I ought not to 
stay here and talk to you." 

"Please sit still," he replied, quickly. 
"I am very tired and I can get rested; 
and you are an excuse for not letting any- 
body else in until I do get rested." 

So I understood the reason, or perhaps 
6 [ 53 ] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

it would be fairer to say the excuse, for 
granting me this remarkable privilege. 

Somehow the subject of education came 
up, and when Lincoln asked me if I was 
a college man I told him I had left Yale 
College Law School to go to war. Then he 
recounted an amusing experience which he 
once had in New Haven. He went to the 
old New Haven House to spend the night, 
and was given a room looking out on 
Chapel Street and the Green. Students 
were seated on the rail of the fence across 
the street, singing. IVIr. Lincoln said that 
all he could remember of Yale College as 
a result of that visit was a continual 
repetition in the song they were singing: 

"My old horse he came from Jerusalem, 
came from Jerusalem, came from Jeru- 
salem, leaning on the lamb." 

He said whimsically that he thought 
this was a good sample of college education 
as he had found it. Yet the President did 
not belittle the advantages to be gained 
by a college education properly and seri- 
[54] 



Some Lincoln Anecdotes 

ously applied. He said he often felt that 
he had missed a great deal by his failure 
to secure these advantages even though 
he thought the usual college education was 
inadequate and very impractical. He had 
found in his experience with the army that 
it took army officers from college just as 
long to learn military science as it did a 
young man from a farm. 

Then the President asked me how I, as 
a poor farmer's boy, got along at Yale. I 
told him I taught music in Yale to earn 
part of my living — dug potatoes in the 
afternoon, and taught music in the eve- 
ning. Then he got up and walked up and 
down the room with his hands behind him, 
while he gave me quite a discourse on his 
opinion of music, and especially of church 
music. 

He said the inconsistency of church 
music was something that astonished him: 
that if you go to any place other than a 
church the music is always appropriate 
for the place and time. In the theater, for 
[55] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

example, they sing songs which have some 
connection with the acting. (Perhaps that 
example would not apply to-day.) But in 
church very often there did not seem to 
be any relation whatever between what 
the congregation or the choir sings and the 
sermon. Then he told me about some 
"highfalutin' songs" he had heard in 
church, which he said would be ridiculous 
if it was not in church; he was disgusted 
with the lack of sacred art and of appro- 
priateness in church music. He finished 
by saying that he did not favor "dance 
music at a funeral." There is a good deal 
of common sense in that! 

I do not now recall just how the subject 
was introduced, but Lincoln talked to me 
about dreams, and he said that while he 
could not see any scientific reason for be- 
lieving in dreams, nevertheless that he did 
in a measure beheve in them, although he 
could not explain why. He said that they 
had undeniably influenced him. 

Then he spoke of dreams he had "since 
[56] 



Some Lincoln Anecdotes 

the war came on," which had influenced 
him a great deal. He said, "There might 
not be much in dreams, but when I dream 
we have been defeated it puts me on my 
nerve to watch out and see how things are. 
Men may say dreams are of no account, 
but they are suggestive to me, and in that 
respect of great account." 

When the President spoke of the people 
who were waiting to see him, I said: 

"No doubt many of them, like myself, 
are strangers to you. How do you select 
those you will let in when you can't see 
them all?" 

He replied that he decided a good deal 
by names, and then he told me what 
seemed a good point to remember, that 
he had trained his memory in his youth 
by determining to remember people's faces 
and names together. This he had done 
when he was first elected to the legislature 
in Illinois. He realized at once when he 
got into the legislature that he could not 
make a speech like the rest of "those fel- 
[57] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

lows," college people, but he could get a 
personal acquaintance and great influence 
if he would remember everybody's face 
and everybody's name; and so he said he 
had acted upon the plan of carrying a 
memorandum book around with him and 
setting down carefully the name of each 
man he met, and then making a little out- 
line sketch with his pencil of some feature 
of the man — his ears, nose, shoulder, or 
something which would help him to re- 
member. 

Lincoln then told me a story about 
James G. Blaine when the latter was first 
elected to Congress. Blaine afterward 
repudiated this story, but it serves to illus- 
trate Lincoln's thought none the less. He 
said that Blaine hired a private secretary 
to help him out in remembering people. 
His system was to have the secretary meet 
all those who entered the reception room 
and ask their names, where they lived, 
what families they belonged to, and all 
the information that could be gained 
[58] 



Some Lincoln Anecdotes 

about them in a social way. Then, accord- 
ing to the story, the secretary ran around 
to the back door to Mr. Blaine's private 
office and gave him a full memorandum 
about his callers. A few minutes later, 
when the visitor was ushered in, the sec- 
retary told him to "walk right in to see 
Mr. Blaine." 

He would say in the most casual man- 
ner: "Mr. Blaine is in there. You can 
go right in." 

Mr. Blaine would get up, shake hands 
with the man, ask him how his relations 
were, how long it had been since he was in 
the legislature, whether his wife's brother 
had been successful in the West, etc., until 
the visitor came to be perfectly astounded. 

As a result of this Mr. Blaine became 
very famous for his memory of names. 
But even if the story about the source of 
Blaine's "memory" is untrue, Lincoln was 
probably ahead of him and, indeed, of 
any man in this country; he could re- 
member every person he had ever seen in 
[59] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

twenty years' time. That was one of the 
things that became evident when I asked 
him how he could judge the visitors. In 
the majority of cases he had seen the man 
or heard of him in some connection, per- 
haps years before. He also said that he 
judged strangers by their names because 
when he heard their names he would think 
of other people he did know by that name, 
and he judged they might belong to that 
family and have the same traits. 

He admitted that he was sometimes 
guided by the suggestion of Artemus Ward, 
who told him a story of a boys' club in 
Boston which did not take in any members 
who were not Irish. A boy came along 
and asked to be admitted to the club, and 
the members asked, "Are you Irish?" 
"Oh yes," replied the boy, "I am Irish." 
"What is your name?" 
" My name is Ikey Einstein." 
Lincoln, smiling, said, "The Irish boys 
kicked that boy out forthwith." 

He said, "Artemus Ward, when telling 
[60 1 



Some Lincoln Anecdotes 

me that story, confirmed me in my view 
that a name does have something to do 
with the man. But," Lincoln added, "if 
it is Smith, I have no way of getting at it." 
Then he said, more seriously, that he had 
to be guided a great deal by an instinctive 
impression of the visitor as he came in 
the door. 

"Seldom a person sits down at this table, 
or desk, but I have formed an opinion of 
the man's disposition and traits, by an 
instinctive impression." 

He acknowledged that he could not 
always trust to this, but was generally 
guided by it and found he got along very 
well with it. Sometimes, however, he did 
make a mistake, as when on one occa- 
sion he had talked to a man for half an 
hour as though he was a hotel keeper, 
and found out afterward that he was a 
preacher. 

Through all this conversation there had 
run an undercurrent of whimsicality, 
partly, no doubt, the conscious effort of 
[61] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

a sorely tried mind to gain a few minutes' 
respite from its pressing cares, but none 
the less showing a keen and deep-seated 
appreciation of the funny side of life. 
Only once did this humor forsake him, 
and that was when Lincoln spoke of Tad. 
The little boy had been playing quietly by 
himself all the time — apparently he was 
as much at home in the Cabinet Room as 
in any other part of the White House — 
and Lincoln told me Tad had been sick 
and that it worried him. 

Then he put his head in both his hands, 
looked down at the table, and said, "No 
man ought to wish to be President of the 
United States!" 

Still holding his head in his hands, he 
said to me, "Young man, do not take a 
political office unless you are compelled to; 
there are times when it is heart-crushing!" 

He said he had thought how many a 
mother and father had lost their children 
in the war — just boys. 

"And I am so anxious about my Tad, 
[62] 



Some Lincoln Anecdotes 

I cannot help but think how they must 
feel. If Tad had died— " 

He grew very sad; for a few minutes his 
face was gloomy, and it seemed as though 
half a sob was coming up in his throat. 

Lincoln was not one of those men who 
go to the extremes of grief or the extremes 
of joy; but other people have told me, as 
I myself now saw, that when there came to 
him that seizure of deep sadness he had 
to fight himself for a few minutes to over- 
come it. This impressed me that day very 
deeply. Breaking off abruptly from what 
he had been talking about — war and Arte- 
mus Ward — and speaking suddenly of Tad, 
he had dropped down in that dejected 
position, and for a few minutes looked so 
sad I thought something awful must sud- 
denly have come to his mind. But it 
seemed, after all, to be only the fear that 
Tad, who was not very well, might die. 
Who can say what vistas of thought that 
idea may have opened. 



Chapter V: What Made Him Laugh 

TO many persons it seemed incon- 
gruous that there should be any 
thought, motive, or taste in com- 
mon between Abraham Lincoln and the 
droll Artemus Ward. Indeed, the great 
biographers of Lincoln have either ignored 
the existence of Ward or have referred to 
him very sparingly. Yet no visitor at the 
White House seemed more welcome than 
Ward during Lincoln's administration. 
Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State, and 
Mr. Stanton, the Secretary of War, were 
said to disapprove of Ward's frequent 
visits, and it was whispered to Mrs. Ames, 
correspondent of the Independent, that 
Lincoln hinted to Ward that it might be 
best to time his visits so as to occur when 
Mrs. Lincoln was not at home. But it 
was a matter of common gossip in "News- 
[64 1 



What Made Him Laugh 

paper Row" that there was a strong and 
true friendship between the care-burdened 
President and the fun-making showman, 
whose real name was Charles Farrar 
Browne. 

The strange contrast in their abilities, 
their dispositions, and their careers puz- 
zled the amateur psychoanalysts of that 
day. Was it merely an example of the 
attraction of opposites? Lincoln was 
strong, athletic, and enduring; Ward was 
weak, lazy, and changeable. Lincoln loved 
work; Ward took the path of least resist- 
ance. Lincoln was a moderate eater and 
lived firmly up to his principles as a tee- 
totaler; Ward drank anything sold at a 
bar and sometimes was too intoxicated to 
appear at his "wax-figger show." Lincoln 
loved the classics and was a good judge 
of literature; Ward seldom read a classic 
translation. Lincoln saved money and 
could carefully invest it; Ward would not 
take the trouble to collect his own salary, 
and never was known to make an invest- 
[65 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

ment. Lincoln laughed often, and on rare 
occasions laughed long and loud; Ward 
never laughed in public and m his funniest 
moods never even smiled. Lincoln's sad 
face, when in repose, touched a chord of 
sympathy in the souls of those who knew 
him best. Yet Kingston, who was Ward's 
best friend, said that Ward's cold stare 
awoke at once cyclones of riotous laughter 
in his audiences. Lincoln was a great 
patriotic leader of men and wielded the 
power of a monarch; Ward was a quiet 
citizen, who loved his country, but had no 
desire for power or for battles. Strong 
contrasts these. Yet in a deep and sincere 
friendship they were agreed. 

Of the few cheerful things which entered 
Lincoln's life in those troubled and gloomy 
times, the one which he enjoyed most was 
Ward's "Show." He thought this was the 
most downright comical thing that had 
ever been put before the public, and he 
laughed heartily even as he described it. 
Ward had a nondescript collection of 
[66 1 



What Made Him Laugh 

stuffed animals which he exhibited upon 
the stage; he told the audience he found 
it cheaper to stuff the animals once than 
to keep stuffing them continually. They 
consisted at one time of a jack-rabbit and 
two mangy bears. He had also a picture 
of the Western plains — the poorest one he 
could find. He would say, "The Indians 
in this picture have not come along yet." 

One always expected him to lecture 
about his animals, but he never did; in 
fact, he scarcely mentioned them. His 
manner was that of an utter idiot, and his 
blank stare, when the audience laughed at 
something he had said, was enough in itself 
to send the whole hall into paroxysms of 
mirth. Lincoln said to me that day, *'One 
glimpse of Ward would make a culprit 
laugh when he was being hung." 

No doubt one reason why Lincoln felt 
kindly toward Ward was because the latter 
was "most unselfishly trying to keep peo- 
ple cheerful in a most depressing time. He 
and Nasby," the President said, "are fur- 
[67] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

nishing about all the cheerfulness we now 
have in this country." (Petroleum V. 
Nasby, it will be remembered, was the 
pen name taken by David Ross Locke in 
his witty letters from the " Conf edrit Cross- 
roads." 

The humor of Ward may seem crude 
to us now, but in the dark days of '64 it 
took something more potent than refined 
wit to make people laugh — ^just as it took 
a series of ludicrous and not overrefined 
drawings to make England laugh in 1916; 
and it must be borne in mind that while 
Ward's sayings were homely and sometimes 
savored strongly of the frontier, they were 
never coarse or insinuating. 

But after all, the best way to learn what 
Lincoln really thought of Ward was to ask 
him, and I did exactly that. Also, I was 
careful to give close heed to his words, 
that I might be able to write them down 
immediately afterward. This, to the best 
of my recollection, was what Lincoln said: 

"I was told the other day by a Congress- 
[68] 



What Made Him Laugh 

man from Maine that Ward was driven 
partly insane in his early life by the drown- 
ing of his intended bride in Norway Lake. 
I could feel that in Ward's character some- 
how before I was told about it. Ward 
seems at times so utterly forlorn. 

** Nothing draws on my feelings like such 
a calamity. I knew what it was once. 
Yes! Yes! I know all about it. One 
never gets away from it. I must ask Ward 
to tell me all about his trouble sometime. 
I think that is what makes him so sad in 
appearances. Ward never laughs himself, 
unless he thinks it is his duty to make other 
people laugh. He is surely right about that. 

*' Perhaps Ward's whisky drinking is all 
an attempt to drown his sorrow. Who 
knows? It is a mighty mistake to go to 
drink for comfort. I should suppose the 
memory of the woman, if she was one 
worth while, would keep him from such a 
foolish habit. I've been right glad that I 
let the stuff alone. There was plenty of 
it about. 
6 [69] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

"Ward told me one day that he took to 
funny work as a makeshift for a decent 
living; and that he found it to be an 
honest way to go about doing good. I 
would have done that myself if I had not 
found harder work at the law. 

"I have agreed with many people who 
think that Ward should be in some trade 
or writing books. But I don't know about 
it. He has a special kind of mind, and, 
rightly used, he would make an excellent 
teacher of mental science. In one way of 
looking at it his life is wasted. But if he 
refreshes and cheers other people as he does 
me, I can't see how he could make a better 
investment of his life. I smile and smile 
here as one by one the crowd passes me to 
shake hands, until it is a week before my 
face gets straight. But it is a duty. I 
could defeat our whole army to-morrow hy 
looking glum at a reception or by refusing to 
smile for three consecutive hours} Ward 
says he carries a bottle of sunshine in 'the 

^ The italics are the author's. — Ed. 
[70] 



What Made Him Laugh 

otier pocket,' to treat his friends. I like 
that idea. 

"Ward is dreadfully misunderstood by a 
lot of dull people. They insist on taking 
him seriously. An old lady in Baltimore 
held me up one night after I had told some 
of Artemus Ward's remarks, and she may 
not have forgiven me yet. I told his tale 
of the rich land out in Iowa, where the farm- 
er threw a cucumber seed as far as he 
could and started out on a run for his 
house. But the cucumber vine overtook 
him and he found a seed cucumber in his 
pocket. 

"At that the old lady opened her eyes 
and mouth, but made no remark. Once 
more I tried her, by telling how YV^ard 
knew a lady who went for a porous plaster 
and the druggist told her to place it any- 
where on her trunk. Not having a trunk 
or box in the house, she put it on her band- 
box, and the next day reported that it was 
so powerful that it drew her pink bonnet 
all out of shape. 

f 71 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

"That was more than the conscientious 
old saint could stand, and after supper she 
called me aside and told me that I ought 
to know that man Ward, or whoever it 
was, 'was an out-and-out liar/ 

"That makes me think of a colored 
preacher who worked here on the grounds 
through the week, and who loved the 
deep waters of theology in which he floun- 
dered daily. One evening I asked him 
why he did not laugh on Sunday, and when 
he said it was because it was 'suthin' 
frivlus,' I told him that the Bible said 
God laughed. 

"The old man came to the door several 
days after that and said, *Marse Linkum, 
IVe been totin' dat yar Bible saying "God 
larfed," and IVe 'eluded dat it mus' jes' 
tak' a joke as big as der universe ter mak 
God larf. Dar ain't no sech jokes roun' 
dis yere White House on Sunday.' 

"Well, let us get back to Ward and begin 
de novo. And, by the way, that was the 
first Latin phrase I ever heard. But I like 
[72 1 



What Made Him Laugh 

Ward, because all his fun and all his yarns 
are as clean as spring water. He doesn't 
insinuate or suggest approval of evil. He 
doesn't ridicule true religion. He never 
speaks slightingly or grossly of woman. 
He is a one-hundred-carat man in his 
motives. I am often accredited with tell- 
ing disgraceful barroom stories, and some- 
times see them in print, but I have no 
time to contradict them. Perhaps people 
forget them soon. I hope so. I don't 
know how I came by the name of a story- 
teller. It is not a fame I would seek. But 
I have tried to use as many as I could 
find that were good so as to cheer up peo- 
ple in this hard world. 

"Ward said that he did not know much 
about education in the schools, but he had 
an idea the training there was more to 
make the child think quickly and think 
accurately than to memorize facts. If that 
were the case he thought a textbook on 
bright jokes would be a valuable addition 
to a school curriculum. 
[73] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

"Ward's sharp jokes do discipline the 
mind. Ward told Tad last summer that 
Adam vv^as snaked out of Eden, and that 
Goliath was surprised when David hit him 
because such a thing never entered his 
head before. Ward told Mr. Chase that 
his father was an artist who was true to 
life, for he made a scarecrow so bad that 
the crows brought back the corn they had 
stolen two years before. Ward believes 
that the riddles of Sampson, the fables of 
iEsop, the questions of Socrates, and sums 
in mathematics are all mind awakeners 
similar in effect to the discipline of real 
humor." 

Knowing that Lincoln had suffered a 
nearly fatal heart blow in his youth 
through the tragic death of his first love, 
I was interested, years after this interview 
with the President, to learn that there had 
been a startling occurrence of a very simi- 
lar nature in the early life of Ward. This 
has been almost universally overlooked. 
Even his most intimate friends, includ- 
[74 1 



What Made Him Laugh 

ing Robertson, Hingston, Setchell, Coe, 
Carleton, and Rider, make no mention 
of the tragic death of one of Ward's 
earhest girl friends, Maude Myriek, then 
residing with relatives in Norway, Maine. 
The township of Norway adjoins Water- 
ford, where Ward was born, and where 
he lived until he was nineteen. None of 
Ward's biographers give details of his 
early life on the farm, and none appear 
even to have heard of Maude Myriek. 

In 1874 a reporter of the Boston Daily 
Traveler was sent to Waterford to find the 
living neighbors of Ward's family and 
write a sketch of the village and people. 
In the report the barest mention was made 
of Maude Myriek. It stated that a cousin 
of Ward's remembered that his early in- 
fatuation for a girl in the adjoining town- 
ship "broke him all up" when she was 
accidentally drowned at the inlet of Nor- 
way Lake. Search for her genealogy at this 
late date seems vain. Ward appears never 
to have mentioned her name but once 
[75 1 ~ 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

after her death, and that was on his own 
dying bed. The only allusion possibly con- 
cerning her that he ever made was a brief 
note in an autograph album, preserved in 
Portland, Maine, in which he wrote: "As 
for opposites; the happiest place for me is 
Tiffin, and the saddest is a bridge over the 
Norway brook." 

If the historian could be sure that the 
vague rumor was fact and that the coun- 
try lass and the farmer's son were lovers, 
that the place of her sudden death at the 
bridge over the inlet to Norway Lake, 
halfway between their homes, was their 
trysting place, it would make clear the 
chief reason for Abraham Lincoln's tender 
interest in Artemus Ward. That fact 
would also account in a large degree for 
Ward's eccentric, inimitable humor. All 
the great humorists from Charles Lamb to 
Josh Billings were broken-hearted in their 
youth. Great geniuses have often been 
developed by the same sad experience. It 
often costs much to be truly great. 
[76] 



What Made Him Laugh 

Previous to his sixteenth year the hfe of 
Charles Farrar Browne was that of a New 
England country boy with parents who 
were industrious, honest, and poor. The 
family needs were not of the extreme kind 
which are found in the slums of the city, 
but existence depended on incessant toil 
and the most critical economy. Squire 
Browne, the father of the future " Artemus 
Ward," was a farmer who could also use 
surveying instruments with the skill of 
New England common sense. 

His mother was a strong, industrious 
woman of the Pilgrim Fathers stock. She 
encouraged home study and made the 
long winter evenings the occasion for moral 
and mental instruction. The district school 
was of little use to her children, as they 
could " outteach the teacher." But Charlie 
was educated beyond his years by the 
books which his parents brought into the 
home. At fifteen years of age, his father 
having died two years previously, he was 
sent to Skowhegan, Maine, to learn the 
[77] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

trade of a printer in the office of the Skow* 
hegan Clarion, 

His parents had not intended that he 
should be permanently a printer; the in- 
ability to care for the growing boy at home 
evidently induced them to seek a trade for 
him by which he could earn a living while 
studying for the ministry. But the tragic 
events or the unaccountable mental revo- 
lution of those unrecorded years turned 
away all the hopes of his parents and sent 
his soul into rebelHon against such a career. 
Nevertheless, a deep good nature remained 
intact and the altruistic qualities of his 
disposition proved to be permanent. He 
wrote to Shillabar ("Mrs. Partington") of 
Boston that "the man who has no care for 
fun himself has more time to cheer up his 
neighbors." The only thing that ever 
cheered Ward into chuckling laughter was 
to meditate by himself on the effect of a 
squib or description he was composing on 
"some old codger on a barrel by the 
country grocery." 

[78] 



What Made Him Laugh 

Ward was never contented or fully 
happy. He traveled about from place to 
place, often leaving without collecting his 
wages. He was a typesetter and reporter 
at Tiffin, Ohio, at Toledo, and at Cleve- 
land. When Mr. J. W. Gray of the Cleve- 
land Plain Dealer secured Ward's services 
as a reporter. Ward was twenty-four years 
old and thought to be hopelessly indolent 
by his previous employer. He soon be- 
came known as "that fool who writes for 
the Plain Dealer^^; and his comic situations 
and surprising arguments were soon the 
general theme of conversation in the city. 
He was famous in a month. 

It was there and then that he assumed 
the pen name of Artemus Ward. He began 
to give his humorous public talks in 1862 
and was successful from the first evening. 
His writings for Vanity Fair, New York, 
and all his lectures were clearly original. 
He could never be accused of plagiarism 
or imitation. Indeed, no one on earth 
could repeat his lectures with success or 
[79] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

equal Ward in continual fun making. He 
often assumed the role of an idiot, but at 
the same time made the wisest observations 
and the cutest sarcasms . His appearance on 
the stage even before he made his mechani- 
cal nod was greeted with loud, hearty, and 
prolonged laughter. The saddest forgot 
his sorrow, the most sedate gentleman 
began to shake, and the crusty old maid 
broke out into the Ha! Ha! of a girl of 
sixteen. 

We may read Ward's writings and feel 
something of his absurd humor when we 
recall his posture as he stated solemnly 
that his wife's feet "were so large that her 
toes came around the comer two minutes 
before she came along"; but to feel the 
full force of the absurdity one needs to see 
Ward's seeming impatience that anyone 
should take it as a joke or disbelieve his 
plain statement. 

Some cynical persons saw in Lincoln's 
friendship a move to secure Ward's in- 
fluence as a popular writer for the help of 
[80], 



What Made Him Laugh 

his political party. Now that Mr. Lincoln 
is more fully understood, no one would 
accuse him of any such a hypocritical or 
unworthy motive. He would have been 
frank with Ward even though the latter 
was needed to aid the sacred cause of 
human liberty, 

Samuel Bowles of the Springfield Repub- 
lican, writing on Artemus Ward's death 
in 1866, said, "Ward is said not to have 
seen a well day after the death of President 
Lincoln." It was a true friendship, be- 
yond a doubt. 



Chapter VI: Humor in the 
PoKtical Situation 

A MONG the articles published by 
ZJk Artemus Ward were the following 
^ ^ references to Lincoln's political 
life, which greatly pleased Mr. Lincoln. 
He often showed the worn clippings to his 
intimate friends. They lose much of the 
keen wit of their composition by the 
changes which the years have wrought in 
their local setting. Almost every word 
had a humorous and wise inference or 
thrust which cannot be recognized by the 
modern reader. But they retain enough 
still to be wonderfully funny. 

The tattered clippings are no more, of 
course, but I have gone back to Ward's 
book and give below the stories which so 
amused Lincoln. 

[82] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

joy in the house of ward 

Dear Sirs: 

I take my pen in hand to inform you 
that I am in a state of great bliss, and 
trust these lines will find you injoyin the 
same blessins. I'm reguvinated. I've 
found the immortal waters of yooth, so to 
speak, and am as limber and frisky as a 
two-year-old steer, and in the futur them 
boys which sez to me "go up, old Bawld 
hed," will do so at the peril of their hazard, 
individooally. I'm very happy. My house 
is full of joy, and I have to git up nights 
and larf ! Sumtimes I ax myself "is it not 
a dream?" & suthin withinto me sez "it 
air"; but when I look at them sweet little 
critters and hear 'em squawk, I know it 
is a reality — 2 realitys, I may say — and I 
feel gay. 

I returnd from the Summer Campane 

with my unparaleld show of wax works and 

livin wild Beests of Pray in the early part 

of this munth. The peple of Baldinsville 

[83] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

met me cordully and I immejitly commenst 
restin myself with my famerly. The other 
nite while I was down to the tavurn tostin 
my shins agin the bar room fire & amuzin 
the krowd with sum of my adventurs, who 
shood cum in bare heded & terrible excited 
but Bill Stokes, who sez, sez he, "Old Ward, 
there's grate doins up to your house." 

Sez I, "William, how so?" 

Sez he, "Bust my gizzud but it's grate 
doins," & then he larfed as if he'd kill 
hisself. 

Sez I, risin and puttin on a austeer look, 
"Wilham, I woodunt be a fool if I had 
common cents." 

But he kept on larfin till he was black 
in the face, when he fell over on to the 
bunk where the hostler sleeps, and in a 
still small voice sed, "Twins!" I ashure 
you gents that the grass didn't grow under 
my feet on my way home, & I was follered 
by a enthoosiastic throng of my feller sit- 
terzens, who hurrard for Old Ward at the 
top of their voises. I found the house 
[84 1 



Humor in the Political Situation 

chock full of peple. Thare was Mis Square 
Baxter and her three grown-up darters, 
lawyer Perkinses wife, Taberthy Ripley, 
young Eben Parsuns, Deakun Simmuns 
folks, the Skoolmaster, Doctor Jordin, 
etsetterry, etsetterry. Mis Ward was in 
the west room, which jines the kitchen. 
Mis Square Baxter was mixin suthin in a 
dipper before the kitchin fire, & a small 
army of female wimin were rushin wildly 
round the house with bottles of camfire, 
peaces of flannil, &c. I never seed such a 
hubbub in my natral born dase. I cood 
not stay in the west room only a minit, so 
strung up was my feelins, so I rusht out 
and ceased my dubbel barrild gun. 

"What upon airth ales the man?" sez 
Taberthy Ripley. "Sakes alive, what air 
you doin.f^" & she grabd me by the coat 
tales. "What's the matter with you.^" 
she continnerd. 

"Twins, marm," sez I, "twins!" 
"I know it," sez she, coverin her pretty 
face with her aprun. 
7 [85] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

"Wall," sez I, "that's what's the matter 
with me!" 

"Wall, put down that air gun, you 
pesky old fool," sed she. 

"No, marm," sez I, "this is a Nashunal 
day. The glory of this here day isn't con- 
fined to Baldinsville by a dam site. On 
yonder woodshed," sed I, drawin myself 
up to my full hite and speakin in a show 
actin voice, " will I fire a Nashunal saloot ! " 
sayin whitch I tared myself from her grasp 
and rusht to the top of the shed whare I 
blazed away until Square Baxter's hired 
man and my son Artemus Juneyer cum 
and took me down by mane force. 

On returnin to the "Kitchin I found quite 
a lot of peple seated be4 the fire, a talkin 
the event over. They made room for me & 
I sot down. " Quite a eppisode," sed Docter 
Jordin, litin his pipe with a red-hot coal. 

"Yes," sed I, "2 eppisodes, waying 
abowt 18 poimds jintly." 

"A perfeck coop de tat," sed the skool- 
master. 

[86] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

"E pluribus unum, in proprietor per- 
sony," sed I, thinking I'd let him know I 
understood furrin langwidges as well as he 
did, if I wasn't a skoolmaster. 

"It is indeed a momentious event," sed 
young Eben Parsuns, who has been 2 
quarters to the Akademy. 

" I never heard twins called by that name 
afore," sed I, "But I spose it's all rite." 

"We shall soon have Wards enuff," sed 
the editer of the Baldinsville Bugle of 
Liberty, who was lookin over a bundle of 
exchange papers in the corner, "to apply 
to the legislater for a City Charter!" 

"Good for you, old man!" sed I; "giv 
that air a conspickius place in the next 
Bugler 

"How redicklus," sed pretty Susan 
Fletcher, coverin her face with her knittin 
work & larfin like all possest. 

"Wall, for my part," sed Jane Maria 
Peasley, who is the crossest old made in 
the world, "I think you all act like a 
pack of fools." 

[87] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

Sez I, "Mis. Peasly, air you a parent?" 

Sez she, "No, I ain't." 

Sez I, "Mis. Peasly, you never will be." 

She left. 

We sot there talkin & larfin until "the 
switchin hour of nite, when grave yards 
yawn & Josts troop 4th," as old Bill 
Shakespire aptlee obsarves in his dramy of 
John Sheppard, esq, or the Moral House 
Breaker, when we broke up & disbursed. 

Muther & children is a doin well & as 
Resolushhuns is the order of the day I 
will feel obleeged if you'll insurt the 
foUerin — 

Whereas, two Eppisodes has happined 
up to the undersined's house, which is 
Twins; & Whereas I like this stile, sade 
twins bein of the male perswashun & both 
boys; there4 Be it — 

Resolved, That to them nabers who did 
the fare thing by sade Eppisodes my hart 
felt thanks is doo. 

Resolved, That I do most hartily thank 
Engine Ko. No. 17, who, under the im- 
[88] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

preshun from the fuss at my house on that 
auspishus nite that thare was a konflagra- 
tion goin on, kum galyiantly to the spot, 
but kindly refraned from squirtin. 

Resolved, That frum the Bottum of my 
Sole do I thank the Baldinsville brass band 
fur givin up the idea of Sarahnadin me, 
both on that great nite & sinse. 

Resolved, That my thanks is doo several 
members of the Baldinsville meetin house 
who for 3 whole dase hain't kalled me a 
sinful skoffer or intreeted me to mend my 
wicked wase and jine sade meetin house 
to onct. 

Resolved, That my Boozum teams with 
meny kind emoshuns towards the follerin 
individoouls, to whit namelee — Mis. 
Square Baxter, who Jenerusly refoozed to 
take a sent for a bottle of camfire; lawyer 
Perkinses wife who rit sum versis on the 
Eppisodes; the Editer of the Baldinsville 
Bugle of Liberty, who nobly assisted me in 
wollupin my Kangeroo, which sagashus 
little cuss seriusly disturbed the Eppisodes 
[89] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

by his outrajus screetchins & kickins up; 
Mis. Hirum Doolittle, who kindly furnisht 
sum cold vittles at a tryin time, when it 
wasunt konvenient to cook vittles at my 
hous; & the Peasleys, Parsunses & Wat- 
sunses fur there meny ax of kindness. 
Trooly yures, 

Artemus Ward. 

the crisis 

{This Oration was delivered before the commencement of 
the war] 

On returnin to my humsted in Baldins- 
ville, Injianny, resuntly, my feller sitter- 
zens extended a invite for me to norate to 
'em on the Krysis. I excepted & on larst 
Toosday nite I peared be4 a C of upturned 
faces in the Red Skool House. I spoke 
nearly as f oilers: 

Baldinsvillins: Heartto4, as I have 
numerously obsarved, I have abstrained 
from having any sentimunts or principles, 
my pollertics, like my religion, bein of a 
exceedin accommodatin character. But 
190] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

the fack can't be no longer disgised that a 
Krysis is onto us, & I feel it's my dooty to 
accept your invite for one consecutive nite 
only. I spose the inflammertory individ- 
ooals who assisted in projucing this Krysis 
know what good she will do, but I ain't 
'shamed to state that I don't scacely. But 
the Krysis is hear. She's bin hear for 
sevral weeks, & Goodness nose how long 
she'll stay. But I venter to assert that 
she's rippin things. She's knockt trade 
into a cockt up hat and chaned Bizness of 
all kinds tighter nor I ever chaned any of 
my livin wild Beests. Alow me to hear 
dygress & stait that my Beests at presnt 
is as harmless as the newborn Babe. 
Ladys & gentlemen neen't hav no fears 
on that pint. To resoom — Altho I can't 
exactly see what good this Krysis can do, 
I can very quick say what the origernal 
cawz of her is. The origernal cawz is Our 
Afrikan Brother. I was into Barnim's 
Moozeum down to New York the other 
day & saw that exsentric Etheopian, the 
[91] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

What Is It. Sez I, "Mister What Is It, 
you folks air raisin thunder with this grate 
country. You're gettin to be ruther more 
numeris than interestin. It is a pity you 
coodent go orf sumwhares by yourselves, 
& be a nation of What Is Its, tho' if you'll 
excoose me, I shooden't care about marryin 
among you. No dowt you're exceedin 
charmin to hum, but your stile of luvliness 
isn't adapted to this cold climit." He larfed 
into my face, which rather Riled me, as I 
had been perfeckly virtoous and respect- 
able in my observashuns. So sez I, turnin 
a leetle red in the face, I spect, **Do you 
hav the unblushin impoodents to say you 
folks haven't raised a big mess of thunder 
in this brite land. Mister What Is It?" 
He larfed agin, wusser nor be4, whareupon 
I up and sez, "Go home. Sir, to Afriky's 
bumin shores & taik all the other What Is 
Its along with you. Don't think we can 
spair your interestin picters. You What 
Is Its air on the pint of smashin up the 
gratest Guv'ment ever erected by man, & 
[92] 



Humor In the Political Situation 

you actooally hav the owdassity to larf 
about it. Go home, you low cuss!" 

I was workt up to a high pitch, & I pro- 
ceeded to a Restorator & cooled orf with 
some little fishes biled in ile — I b'leeve 
thay call 'em sardeens. 

Feller Sitterzuns, the Afrikan may be 
Our Brother. Sevral hily respectyble gen- 
tlemen, and sum talentid females tell us 
so, & fur argyment's sake I mite be in- 
jooced to grant it, tho' I don't beleeve it 
myself. But the Afrikan isn't our sister 
& our wife & our uncle. He isn't sevral 
of our brothers & all our fust wife's re- 
lashuns. He isn't our grandfather, and 
our grate grandfather, and our Aunt in 
the country. Scacely. & yit numeris per- 
sons would have us think so. It's troo he 
runs Congress & sevral other public gros- 
serys, but then he ain't everybody & every- 
body else likewise. [Notiss to bizness men 
of Vanity Fair: Extry charg fur this larst 
remark. It's a goak. — ^A. W,] 

But we've got the Afrikan, or ruther he's 
[93] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

got us, & now what air we going to do 
about it? He's a orful noosanse. Praps 
he isn't to blame fur it. Praps he was 
creatid fur sum wise purpuss, like the 
measles and New Englan Rum, but it's 
mity hard to see it. At any rate he's no 
good here, & as I statid to Mister What Is 
It, it's a pity he cooden't go orf sumwhares 
quietly by hisself, whare he cood wear red 
weskits & speckled neckties, & gratterfy his 
ambishun in varis interestin wase, without 
havin a eternal fuss kickt up about him. 

Praps I'm bearing down too hard upon 
Cuffy. Cum to think on it, I am. He 
woodn't be sich a infernal noosanse if white 
peple would let him alone. He mite indeed 
be interestin. And now I think of it, why 
can't the white peple let him alone. What's 
the good of continnerly stirrin him up with 
a ten-foot polcf^ He isn't the sweetest kind 
of Perfoomery when in a natral stait. 

Feller Sitterzens, the Union's in danger. 
The black devil Disunion is trooly here, 
starin us all squarely in the fase! We must 



Humor in the Political Situation 

drive him back. Shall we make a 2nd 
Mexico of ourselves? Shall we sell our 
birthrite for a mess of potash? Shall one 
brother put the knife to the throat of 
anuther brother? Shall we mix our whisky 
with each other's blud? Shall the star 
spangled Banner be cut up into dishcloths? 
Standin here in this here Skoolhouse, upon 
my nativ shore so to speak, I anser — Nary ! 

Oh you fellers who air raisin this row, & 
who in the fust place startid it, I'm 'shamed 
of you. The Showman blushes for you, 
from his boots to the topmost hair upon his 
wenerable hed. 

Feller Sitterzens: I am in the Sheer & 
Yeller leaf. I shall peg out 1 of these dase. 
But while I do stop here I shall stay in the 
Union. I know not what the super vizers 
of Baldinsville may conclude to do, but for 
one, I shall stand by the Stars & Stripes. 
Under no circumstances whatsomever will 
I sesesh. Let every Stait in the Union 
sesesh & let Palmetter flags flote thicker 
nor shirts on Square Baxter's close line, 
[95 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

still will I stick to the good old flag. The 
country may go to the devil, but I won't! 
And next Summer when I start out on my 
campane with my Show, wharever I pitch 
my little tent, you shall see floatin prowdly 
from the center pole thereof the Amerikan 
Flag, with nary a star wiped out, nary a 
stripe less, but the same old flag that has 
allers flotid thar ! & the price of admishun 
will be the same it allers was — 15 cents, 
children half price. 

Feller Sitterzens, I am dun. Accordingly 
I squatted. 

WAX FIGURES VERSUS SHAKSPEAEE 
Onto the wing 1859. 

Mr. Editor. 

I take my Pen in hand to inform yu that 

I'm in good helth and trust these few lines 

will find yu injoyin the same blessins. I 

wood also state that I'm now on the sum- 

mir kampane. As the Poit sez — 

ime erflote, ime erflote 
On the Swift rollin tied 
An the Rovir is free. 
[96 1 



Humor in the Political Situation 

Bizness is scacely middlin, but Sirs I 
manige to pay for my foode and raiment 
puncktooally and without no grumblin. 
The barked arrers of slandur has bin leviled 
at the undersined moren onct sins heze bin 
into the show bizness, but I make bold to 
say no man on this footstule kan trooth- 
fully say I ever rouged him or eny of his 
folks. I'm travelin with a tent, which is 
better nor hirin hauls. My show konsists 
of a serious of wax works, snakes, a paner- 
amy kalled a Grand Movin Diarea of the 
War in the Crymear, komic songs and the 
Cangeroo, which larst little cuss continners 
to konduct hisself in the most outrajus 
stile. I started out with the idear of makin 
my show a grate Moral Entertainment, 
but I'm kompeled to sware so much at that 
air infurnal Kangeroo that I'm frade this 
desine will be flustratid to some extent. 
And while speakin of morrality, remines 
me that sum folks turn up their nosis at 
shows like mine, sayin they is low and not 
fit to be patrernized by peple of high de- 
[97] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

gree. Sirs, I manetane that this is infernal 
nonsense. I manetane that wax figgers is 
more elevatin than awl the plays ever 
wroten. Take Shakespeer for instunse. 
Peple think heze grate things, but I kon- 
tend heze quite the reverse to the kon- 
trary. WTiat sort of sense is thare to King 
Leer, who goze round cussin his darters, 
chawin hay and throin straw at folks, and 
larfin like a silly old koot and makin a ass 
of hisself ginerally? Thare's Mrs. Mack- 
beth — sheze a nise kind of woomon to have 
round ain't she, a puttin old Mack, her 
husband, up to slayin Dunkan with a 
cheeze knife, while heze payin a frendly 
visit to their house. O its hily morral, I 
spoze, when she larfs wildly and sez, "gin 
me the daggurs — He let his bowels out," 
or wurds to that effeck — I say, this is awl, 
strickly, propper, I spoze,^ That Jack 
Fawlstarf is likewise a immoral old cuss, 
take him how ye may, and Hamlick is as 
crazy as a loon. Thare's Richurd the 
Three, peple think heze grate things, but 
[98] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

I look upon him in the hte of a monkster. 
He kills everybody he takes a noshun to 
in kold blud, and then goze to sleep in his 
tent. Bimeby he wakes up and yells for 
a hoss so he kan go orf and kill sum more 
peple. If he isent a fit spesserman for the 
gallers then I shood like to know whare 
you find um. Thare's largo who is more 
ornery nor pizun. See how shameful he 
treated that hily respecterble injun gentle- 
mun, Mister Otheller, makin him for to 
beleeve his wife was too thick with Casheo. 
Obsarve how largo got Casheo drunk as 
a biled owl on corn whiskey in order to 
karry out his sneckin desines. See how he 
wurks Mister Otheller's feelins up so that 
he goze and makes poor Desdemony swal- 
ler a piller which cawses her deth. But I 
must stop. At sum futur time I shall 
continner my remarks on the drammer in 
which I shall show the varst supeeriority 
of wax figgers and snakes over theater 
plays, in a interlectooal pint of view. 
Very Respectively yures, 

A Wakd, T. K. 
[99] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

THE SHAKERS 

The Shakers is the strangest rehgious 
sex I ever met. I'd hearn tell of 'em and 
I'd seen 'em, with their broad brim'd hats 
and long wastid coats; but I'd never cum 
into immejit contack with 'em, and I'd sot 
'em down as lackin intelleck, as I'd never 
seen 'em to my Show — leastways, if they 
cum they was disgised in white peple's 
close, so I didn't know 'em. 

But in the Spring of 18 — , I got sv/ampt 
in the exterior of New York State, one dark 
and stormy night, when the winds Blue 
pityusly, and I was forced to tie up with 
the Shakers. 

I was toilin threw the mud, when in the 
dim vister of the futer I obsarved the 
gleams of a taller candle. Tiein a hornet's 
nest to my off boss's tail to kinder encour- 
age him, I soon reached the place. I 
knockt at the door, which it was opened 
unto me by a tall, slick-faced, solum lookin 
individooal, who turn'd out to be a Elder. 
[100] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

"Mr. Shaker," sed I, "you see before 
you a Babe in the woods, so to speak, and 
he axes shelter of you." 

"Yay," sed the Shaker, and he led the 
way into the house, another Shaker bein 
sent to put my bosses and waggin imder 
kiver. 

A solum female, lookin sumwhat like 
a last year's bean-pole stuck into a long 
meal bag, cum in and axed me was I a 
thurst and did I hunger? to which I ur- 
banely anserd "a few." She went orf and 
I endeverd to open a conversashun with 
the old man. 

"Elder, Ispect?"sedl. 

"Yay," he said. 

"Keith's good, I reckon?" 

"Yay." 

"What's the wages of a Elder, when he 
understans his bisness — or do you devote 
your sar vices gratooitus?" 

"Yay." 

"Stormy night, sir." 

"Yay." 
8 [ 101 ] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

"If the storm continners there'll be a 
mess imderfoot, hay?" 

"Yay." 

"It's onpleasant when there's a mess 
underfoot? " 

"Yay." 

"If I may be so bold, kind sir, what's 
the price of that pecooler kind of weskit 
you wear, incloodin trimmins?" 
' "Yay!" 

I pawsd a minit, and then, thinkin I'd 
be faseshus with him and see how that 
would go, I slapt him on the shoulder, 
bust into a harty larf, and told him that 
as a yayer he had no livin ekal. 

He jumpt up as if Billin water had bin 
squirted into his ears, groaned, rolled his 
eyes up tords the sealin and sed: "You're 
a man of sin!" He then walkt out of the 
room. 

Jest then the female in the meal bag 

stuck her hed into the room and statid 

that refreshments awaited the weary trav- 

ler, and I sed if it was vittles she ment the 

[102] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

weary travler was agreeable, and I follored 
her into the next room. 

I sot down to the table and the female 
in the meal bag pored out sum tea. She 
sed nothin, and for five minutes the only 
live thing in that room was a old wooden 
clock, which tickt in a subdood and bash- 
ful manner in the corner. This dethly still- 
ness made me oneasy, and I determined 
to talk to the female or bust. So sez I, 
"marrige is agin your rules, I bleeve, 
marm?" 

"Yay." 

"The sexes liv strickly apart, I spect,'^" 

"Yay." 

"It's kinder singler," sez I, puttin on 
my most sweetest look and speakin in a 
winnin voice, "that so fair a made as thow 
never got hitched to some likely feller." 
[N. B. — She was upwards of 40 and homely 
as a^stump fence, but I thawt I'd tickil her.] 

"I don't like men!" she sed, very short. 

"Wall, I dunno," sez I, "they're a 
rayther important part of the populashun. 
[103] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

I don't scacely see how we could git along 
without 'em." 

"Us poor wimin folks would git along 
a grate deal better if there was no men!" 

"You'll excoos me, marm, but I don't 
think that air would work. It wouldn't 
be regler." 

"I'm fraid of men!" she sed. 

"That's onnecessary, marm. You ain't 
in no danger. Don't fret yourself on that 
pint." 

"Here we're shot out from the sinful 
world. Here all is peas. Here we air 
brothers and sisters. We^ don't marry 
and consekently we hav no domestic diffi- 
culties. Husbans don't abooze their wives 
— wives don't worrit their husbans. 
There's no children here to worrit us. 
Nothin to worrit us here. No wicked 
matrimony here. Would thow like to be 
a Shaker.^" 

"No," sez I, "it ain't my stile." 

I had now histed in as big a load of per- 
vishuns as I could carry comfortable, and, 
[104] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

leanin back in my cheer, commenst pickin 
my teeth with a fork. The female went 
out, leavin me all alone with the clock. I 
hadn't sot thar long before the Elder poked 
his hed in at the door. "You're a man of 
sin!" he sed, and groaned and went away. 

Directly thar cum in two young Shaker- 
esses, as putty and sHck lookin gals as I 
ever met. It is troo they was drest in 
meal bags like the old one I'd met previsly, 
and their shiny, silky har was hid from 
sight by long white caps, sich as I spose 
female Josts wear; but their eyes sparkled 
like diminds, their cheeks was like roses, 
and they was charmin enuff to make a 
man throw stuns at his granmother if they 
axed him to. They comenst clearin away 
the dishes, castin shy glances at me all 
the time. I got excited. I forgot Betsy 
Jane in my rapter, and sez I, "my pretty 
dears, how air you?" 

"We air well," they solumnly sed. 

"Whar's the old man.?" sed I, in a soft 
voice. 

[105] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

"Of whom dost thow speak — ^Brother 
Uriah?" 

"I mean the gay and festiv cuss who 
calls me a man of sin. Shoiddn't wonder 
if his name was Uriah." 

"He has retired." 

"Wall, my pretty dears," sez I, "let's 
have sum fun. Let's play puss in the 
corner. What say.?" 

"Air you a Shaker, sir.?" they axed. 

"Wall, my pretty dears, I haven't 
arrayed my proud form in a long weskit 
yit, but if they was all like you perhaps 
I'd jine 'em. As it is, I'm a Shaker pro- 
temporary." 

They was full of fun. I seed that at 
fust, only they was a leetle skeery. I tawt 
'em Puss in the corner and sich like plase, 
and we had a nice time, keepin quiet of 
course so the old man shouldn't hear. 
When we broke up, sez I, "my pretty 
dears, ear I go you hav no objections, hav 
you, to a innersent kiss at partin.?" 

"Yay," they sed, and I yay^d. 
[106] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

I went up stairs to bed. I spose I'd bin 
snoozin half an hour when I was woke up 
by a noise at the door. I sot up in bed, 
leanin on my elbers and rubbin my eyes, 
and I saw the follerin picter: The Elder 
stood in the doorway, with a taller candle 
in his hand. He hadn't no wearin appeerel 
on except his night close, which flutterd 
in the breeze like a Seseshun flag. He sed, 
"You're a man of sin!" then groaned and 
went away. 

I went to sleep agin, and drempt of 
runnin orf with the pretty little Shaker- 
esses mounted on my Californy Bar. I 
thawt the Bar insisted on steerin strate 
for my dooryard in Baldinsville and that 
Betsy Jane cum out and giv us a warm 
recepshun with a panfuU of Bilin water. 
I was woke up arly by the Elder. He sed 
refreshments was reddy for me down 
stairs. Then say in I was a man of sin, he 
went groanin away. 

As I was goin threw the entry to the 
room where the vittles was, I cum across 
[ 107 ] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

the Elder and the old female I'd met the 
night before, and what d'ye spose they was 
up to? Huggin and kissin like young lov- 
ers in their gushingist state. Sez I, "my 
Shaker frends, I reckon you'd better sus- 
pend the rules and git married." 

"You must excoos Brother Uriah," sed 
the female; "he's subjeck to fits and 
hain't got no command over hisself when 
he's into 'em." 

"Sartinly," sez I, "I've bin took that 
way myself frequent." 

"You're a man of sin!" sed the Elder. 

Arter breakfust my little Shaker frends 
cum in agin to clear away the dishes. 

"My pretty dears," sez I, "shall we yay 
agm.? " 

"Nay," they sed, and I nay^d. 

The Shakers axed me to go to their 
meetin, as they was to hav sarvices that 
momin, so I put on a clean biled rag and 
went. The meetin house was as neat as 
a pin. The floor was white as chalk and 
smooth as glass. The Shakers was all on 
[1081 



Humor in the Political Situation 

hand, in clean weskits and meal bags, 
ranged on the floor like milingtery com- 
panies, the mails on one side of the room 
and the females on tother. They com- 
menst clappin their hands and singin and 
dancin. They danced kinder slow at fust, 
but as they got warmed up they shaved it 
down very brisk, I tell you. Elder Uriah, 
in particler, exhiberted a right smart 
chance of spryness in his legs, considerin 
his time of life, and as he cum a dubble 
shuflfle near where I sot, I rewarded him 
with a appro vin smile and sed: "Hunky 
boy! Go it, my gay and festiv cuss!" 

"You're a man of sin!" he sed, contin- 
nerin his shuffle. 

The Sperret, as they called it, then 
moved a short fat Shaker to say a few 
remarks. He sed they was Shakers and 
all was ekal. They was the purest and 
Seleckest peple on the yearth. Other peple 
was sinful as they could be, but Shakers 
was all right. Shakers was all goin ker- 
slap to the Promist Land, and nobody 
[ 109 ] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

want goin to stand at the gate to bar 'em 
out, if they did they'd git run over. 

The Shakers then danced and sung agin, 
and arter they was threw, one of 'em axed 
me what I thawt of it. 

Sez I, "What duz it siggerfy?" 

"What?"sezhe. 

"Why this jumpin up and singin? This 
long weskit bizniss, and this anty-matri- 
mony idee? My f rends, you air neat and 
tidy. Your hands is flowin with milk and 
honey. Your brooms is fine, and your 
apple sass is honest. When a man buys 
a keg of apple sass of you he don't find a 
grate many shavins under a few layers of 
sass — a little Game I'm sorry to say sum 
of my New Englan ancesters used to prae- 
tiss. Your gar ding seeds is fine, and if I 
should sow 'em on the rock of Gibralter 
probly I should raise a good mess of gar- 
ding sass. You air honest in your dealins. 
You air quiet and don't distarb nobody. 
For all this I givs you credit. But your 
religion is small pertaters, I must say. 
[110] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

You mope away your lives here in single 
retchidness, and as you air all by your- 
selves nothing ever conflicks with your 
pecooler idees, except when Human Nater 
busts out among you, as I understan she 
sumtimes do. [I giv Uriah a sly wink here, 
which made the old feller squirm like a 
speared Eel.] You wear long weskits and 
long faces, and lead a gloomy life indeed. 
No children's prattle is ever hearn around 
your harthstuns — you air in a dreary fog 
all the time, and you treat the jolly sun- 
shine of life as tho' it was a thief, drivin 
it from your doors by them weskits, and 
meal bags, and pecooler noshuns of yourn. 
The gals among you, sum of which air as 
slick pieces of caliker as I ever sot eyes on, 
air syin to place their heds agin weskits 
which kiver honest, manly harts, while 
you old heds fool yerselves with the idee 
that they air fulfillin their mishun here, 
and air contented. Here you air all pend 
up by yerselves, talkin about the sins of a 
world you don't know nothin of. Mean- 
[111] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

while said world continners to resolve 
round on her own axeltree onct in every 
24 hours, subjeck to the Constitution of the 
United States, and is a very plesant place 
of residence. It's a unnatral, onreasonable 
and dismal life you're leadin here. So it 
strikes me. My Shaker f rends, I now bid 
you a welcome adoo. You have treated 
me exceedin well. Thank you kindly, one 
and all. 

"A base exhibiter of depraved mon- 
keys and onprincipled wax works!" sed 
Uriah. 

"Hello, Uriah," sez I, "I'd most forgot 
you. Wall, look out for them fits of yourn, 
and don't catch cold and die in the flour 
of your youth and beauty." 

And I resoomed my jerney. 

HIGH-HANDED OUTRAGE AT UTICA 

In the Faul of 1856, I showed my show 
in Utiky, a trooly grate sitty in the State 
of New York. 

[112] 



Humor in the Political Situation 

The people gave me a eordyal recepshun. 
The press was loud in her prases. 

1 day as I was givin a descripshun of my 
Beests and Snaiks in my usual flowry stile 
what was my skorn disgust to see a big 
burly feller walk up to the cage containin 
my wax figgers of the Lord's Last Supper, 
and cease Judas Iscarrot by the feet and 
drag him out on the ground. He then 
commenced fur to pound him as hard as 
he cood. 

"What under the son are you abowt?" 
cried I. 

Sez he, "What did you bring this pussy- 
lanermus cuss here fur?" and he hit the 
wax figger another tremenjis blow on the 
hed. 

Sez I, "You egrejus ass, that air's a 
wax figger — a representashun of the false 
Tostle." 

Sez he, "That's all very well for you to 
say, but I tell you, old man, that Judas 
Iscarrot can't show hisself in Utiky with 
impunerty by a darn site!" with which 

[iisi 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

observashim he kaved in Judassis hed. 
The young man belonged to 1 of the first 
famerlies in Utiky. I sood him, and the 
Joory brawt in a verdick of Arson in the 
3d degree. 



Chapter VII: Why Lincoln 
Loved Laughter 

ONLY once in the course of our long 
and rambling conversation did 
Lincoln refer to the war. That 
was when he asked me how the soldiers' 
spirits were keeping up. He said he had 
been giving out so much cheer to the gen- 
erals and Congressmen that he had pumped 
himself dry and must take in a new supply 
from some source at once. He declared 
that his "ear bones ached" to hear a good 
peal of honest laughter. It was difficult, 
he said, to laugh in any acceptable manner 
when soldiers were dying and widows 
weeping, but he must laugh soon even if 
he had to go down cellar to do it. He 
asked me if I had thought how sacred a 
thing was a loving smile, and how impor- 
tant it often was to laugh. Then he told 
[115 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

how some Union officers in reconnoitering 
had heard the Confederates laughing loudly 
over a game, and returned cast down with 
fear of some sudden and successful at- 
tack by the cheerful enemy. That 
laughter actually postponed a great 
battle for which the Union soldiers had 
been prepared. 

When, as I later ascertained, I had been 
with the President for almost two hours, 
he suddenly straightened up in his chair, 
remarked that he "felt much better now," 
and with a friendly but firm, "Good morn- 
ing," turned back to the papers before him 
on the table. This sounds abrupt as it is 
told, but there was a homeliness and sim- 
plicity about everything Lincoln did which 
robbed the action of any suspicion of dis- 
courtesy. One does not shake hands with 
a member of his own family on merely 
quitting a room, and I felt that a ceremo- 
nious dismissal would have been equally 
uncalled for in this case. Perhaps I really 
should say that is the way I feel now; at 
[116] 



Why Lincoln Loved Laughter 

the time I did not think of the matter at 
all because what was done seemed per- 
fectly natural and proper. 

In the anteroom the crowd was greater, 
if anything, than when I had gone in. 
Among those callers there were certain to 
be some who would bring trouble and 
vexation aplenty to the President. It 
was in preparation for this that he had 
been resting himself, like a boxer between 
the rounds of a bout. One would make 
a great error by supposing that Lincoln's 
normal manner was that which he had 
exhibited to me. He could be soft and 
tender-hearted as any woman, but within 
that kindly nature there lay gigantic 
strength and the capacity for the most 
decisive action. He could speak slowly 
and weigh his words when occasion de- 
manded, but his usual manner was vigor- 
ous and prompt — so much so that at times 
his speech had a quality which might 
fairly be described as explosive. 

This was because he always knew 

9 f 117 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

exactly what he wanted to say. He 
thought out each problem to the end and 
decided it; then he left that and did not 
trouble his mind about it any more, but 
took up something else. This habit of 
disciplined thinking gave him a great ad- 
vantage over most people, who mix their 
thinking and try to carry on a dozen men- 
tal processes all at once. 

Lincoln realized the importance of men- 
tal discipline and he gave to humor a high 
place as an aid to its attainment. I have 
already told how, in discussing Artemus 
Ward with me, he said Ward was really 
an educator, for he understood that the 
purpose of education was to discipline the 
mind, to enable a man to think quickly 
and accurately in all circumstances of life. 
I hope the reader will bear with me if I 
repeat some of the points which Lincoln 
made then, because they show so clearly 
why he valued humor. Lincoln said that 
much of Ward's humor was of the educa- 
tional sort. It aroused intellectual activ- 
[118] 



Why Lincoln Loved Laughter 

ity of the finest kind, and he mentioned 
Ward's constant use of riddles as an illus- 
tration. Then he spoke of the ancient 
Samson riddle and the fables of iEsop, 
and called attention to the fact that they 
employed a joke to train the mind by the 
study of keen satire. He said Ward was 
like that. It seems that Tad came to 
Ward at the table one day after he had 
heard somewhere a joke about Adam in 
Eden. So he said to Mr. Ward, "How 
did Adam get out of Eden?" 

Ward had never heard the conundrum 
and did not give the answer Tad expected, 
but he had one of his own, for he exclaimed 
"Adam was 'snaked' out." It took Tad 
some little time to fathom this reply ai^.d 
gave him some splendid mental exercise. 
Mr. Lincoln said he did not see why they 
did not have a course of humor in the 
schools. It was characteristic of his great 
modesty that whenever he referred to 
school or to college Lincoln always tried 
to Hmit himself by saying that, as he did 
[119] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

not know what they did learn there, he 
was not an authority on the subject, but 
that such-and-such a thing was just "his 
notion." 

If discipHne was a subjective purpose in 
Lincoln's use of humor, it may be said with 
equal certainty that the illustrative power 
of a well-told story was the principal objec- 
tive use to which he put it. Lincoln seems 
never to have told a story simply to relate 
it; everyone he told had an application 
aside from the story itself. There is some- 
thing profoundly elemental about this; it 
is like the use of the parable in the teach- 
ings of Christ. 

Astute minds, capable of grasping the 
meaning of facts without illustration, 
sometimes resented this habit of the Presi- 
dent's; some of the sharpest criticism, as 
might be expected, came from within the 
Cabinet itself; but there can certainly be 
no just foundation for the statement that 
Lincoln detained a full session of the 
Cabinet to read them two chapters in 
[120] 



Why Lincoln Loved Laughter 

Artemus Ward's book. He was not friv- 
olous or shallow. His reverence for great 
men, for great thoughts, and for great 
occasions was most sensitively acute. He 
recognized the fact that ** brevity is the 
soul of wit," and would not have done 
more than use a condensed and brief ref- 
erence to Ward, at most. We know that 
on another occasion he made most effective 
use at a Cabinet meeting of Ward's bur- 
lesque on Shaw patriotism when he quoted 
Ward as saying that he "was willing, if 
need be, to sacrifice all his wife's relations 
for his country." 

An even better example of the Presi- 
dent's use of humor is the following story 
which he once told to illustrate the military 
situation existing at the time. A bull was 
chasing a farmer around a tree. The farm- 
er finally got hold of the bull's tail, and 
both started off across the field. The 
farmer could not let go for fear he would 
fall and break his head, but he called out 
to the bull, "Who started this mess, any- 
[1211 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

way?" Lincoln said he had gotten hold 
of the bull by the tail and that while the 
Confederacy was running away he dared 
not let go. This summed up the situation 
in a way the whole country could under- 
stand. 

It is an interesting fact, and one not 
generally known, that Lincoln committed 
almost every good story he heard to writ- 
ing. If his old notebooks could be found 
they would make a wonderful volume, but, 
unfortunately, they have never come to 
light. Perhaps he felt ashamed of them, 
as he did of his rough draft of the Gettys- 
burg address, which he had scribbled on 
the margin of a newspaper in the morn- 
ing while riding to Gettysburg on the 
train. 

There was one source of Lincoln's humor 
— and perhaps it was the chief one — which 
flowed from the very bedrock of his nature. 
That was the desire to bring cheer to oth- 
ers. When he was passing through the 
very Valley of the Shadow after the tragic 
[ 122 1 



Why Lincoln Loved Laughter 

end of the single love affair of his youth a 
true friend told him that he had no right 
to look so glum — that it "was his solemn 
duty to be cheerful," to cheer up others. 
Young Abe took the lesson to heart, and 
he never forgot it. Incidentally, it was 
the means of restoring him to health and 
probably of preserving his sanity — as the 
old saint who gave him the lecture no 
doubt intended that it should. 

In their common experience of an awful 
grief and in their ability to rise above its 
devastation purged of selfishness and de- 
voted to a career of service, each accord- 
ing to his own gifts, Abraham Lincoln and 
Charles Farrar Browne had followed the 
same path, and it was from this that there 
sprang that deep and true bond of 
sympathy between the two men which 
mystified so many even of those who 
considered themselves Lincoln's intimates. 
Where another saw but the cap and bells, 
Lincoln saw and reverenced the tortured, 
struggling soul within. 
[123] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

During our memorable talk on that 
December day in 1864 when the cares of 
state were pressing so sorely upon him, 
the President told me that he was greatly 
relieved in times of personal distress by 
trying to cheer up somebody else. He 
spoke of it as being both selfish and un- 
selfish. He said he had been accused of 
telling thousands of stories he had never 
heard of, but that he told stories to cheer 
the downhearted and tried to remember 
stories that were cheerful to relate to peo- 
ple in discouraged circumstances. He 
reminded me that his first practice of the 
law was among very poor people. He 
tried to tell stories to his clients who were 
discouraged, to give them courage, and he 
found the habit grew upon him until he 
had to "draw in" and decline to use so 
many stories. 

Bob Burdett, writing for the Burlington 
Hawkey e shortly after the President's death 
on April 15, 1865, said that Abraham Lin- 
[ 1^4] 



Why Lincoln Loved Laughter 

coin's humorous anecdotes would soon die, 
but that Lincoln's humor, like John 
Brown's soul, would be ever "marching 
on." No printed story which he told ever 
expressed the soul of Lincoln fully. His 
own partial description of humor as "that 
indefinable, intangible grace of spirit," is 
not to be found exemplified in his pub- 
lished speeches. It is in the spirit which 
animated them rather than in the works 
themselves that we must look for the vital 
principle of Lincoln's humorous sayings. 

To attempt the analysis of humor is as 
if a philosopher should try to put a glance 
of love into a geometrical diagram or the 
soul of music into a plaster cast. No one 
by searching can find it and no one by 
labor can secure it. Yet so simple, so 
homely, and withal so shrewd was the 
humor of Abraham Lincoln that one can 
easily picture him turning over in his mind 
the words of his favorite quotation from 
the "Merchant of Venice" — one of the 
few classical quotations he ever used — 

[ns] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

while he reflected, half sadly, upon the 
cynicism and pettiness of mankind: 

"Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time, 
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes 
And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper; 
And others of such vinegar aspect 
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile 
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.'* 



Chapter VIII: Lincoln and 
John Brown 

"r J MHIS is my friend!" said Lincoln, 
I as he suddenly turned to a pile 
•^^ of books beside him and grasped 
a Japanese vase containing a large open 
pond lily. Some horticultural admirer, 
knowing Lincoln's love for that special 
flower, had sent in from his greenhouse a 
specimen of the Castilia odorata. The 
President put his left arm affectionately 
around the vase as he inclined his head to 
the lily and drew in the unequaled fra- 
grance with a long, deep breath. 

**I have never had the time to study 
flowers as I often wished to do," he said. 
"But for some strange reason I am capti- 
vated by the pond lily. It may be because 
some one told me that my mother admired 
them." 

[ 127 ] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

Sitting at this desk now, looking out on 
the Berkshire Hills and living over in 
memory that visit to the White House, I 
see again the tableau of the President look- 
ing down into the face of that glorious 
flower. He hugged the vase closer and 
repeated tenderly, "This is my friend!" 

In reverie and in dreams I have medi- 
tated long, searching for some satisfactory 
reason why that particular bloom was 
Lincoln's dear friend. Yet the reason, 
whatever it may be, matters not so much 
as the fact. Lincoln loved the lily and 
called it his friend. No mere sensuous 
admiration of beauty, this, but a deep 
sense of its spiritual significance. By its 
perfection the lily achieved personality, 
and that personality, so simple, so pure, 
so exquisite, struck a responsive chord in 
the heart of this man whom his cultured 
contemporaries called uncouth! On the 
plane of the spirit they met as friends. 

Great gifts have their price. From Lin- 
coln's sensitive tenderness sprang the suf- 
f 128 1 



Lincoln and John Brown 

fering whicli he bore, both In his early Hfe 
and during the hving martyrdom of his 
years in the White House. But as if to 
offset somewhat this terrible burden was 
added the divine gift of humor. 

It has been often remarked that humor 
and pathos are closely akin. The greatest 
humorists are also the greatest masters 
of pathos. Perhaps Mark Twain's great- 
est work was his Joan of Arc, which is 
almost wholly sad, a study in pathos, while 
The Gilded Age makes its readers weep and 
laugh by turns. 

As in the expression so also in the source. 
When Lincoln with tender emphasis said 
to me that Artemus Ward's humor was 
largely "the result of a broken heart," he 
was but stating the law of nature that 
deep sorrow is as essential to humor as 
winter snows are to the bloom of spring. 
Charles Lamb's many griefs, and especially 
his sorrow over his insane sister, were the 
black soil from which his genius grew. 

Many of Josh Billings's ludicrous say- 
[ 129 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

ings were misspelled through his tears. 
The traceable outlines of tragedies in the 
early lives of writers like Bret Harte, 
Mark Twain, Bob Burdette, and Nasby 
testify to the rule that a sad night some- 
where precedes the dawn of pure wit and 
inspiring humor. 

Burton in his Anatomy of Melancholy 
said, "If there is a hell on earth, it is to 
be found in the melancholy man's heart." 
But James Whitcomb Riley said that "wit 
in luxuriant growth is ever the product of 
soil richly fertilized by sorrow." As for 
Lincoln, his first love died of a broken 
heart; he lived on with one. 

"Cheer up, Abe! Cheer up!" was the 
hourly advice of the sympathetic pioneers 
among whom he lived. But the sorrowing 
stranger was, after all, friendless, and he 
could not cheer up alone. He was an 
orphan, homeless; he had no sister, no 
brother, no wife to soothe, advise, or caress 
him. The floods of sorrow had swallowed 
him up and he struggled alone. Few, in- 
[130 1 



Lincoln and John Brown 

deed, are the men or women who have 
descended so deep and endured to remem- 
ber it. 

Down into the darkness came faint 
voices saying over and over, "Cheer up, 
Abe!" If he could muster the courage to 
do as they said, he would be saved from 
death or the insane asylum, which is more 
dreaded than the grave. Nothing but 
cheer could be of any use. 

One dear old saint told him to remember 
that his sweetheart's soul was not dead, 
and that she, undoubtedly, wished him 
to complete his law studies and to make 
himself a strong, good man. "For her 
sake, go on with life and fill the years with 
good deeds!" 

Years afterward he must have thought 
of that when, in the dark days of General 
McClelland's failures, he urged the soldiers 
to "cheer up and thus become invincible." 
Mr. Lincoln, in 1863, when speaking of his 
regard for the Bible, said that once he read 
the Bible half through carefully to find a 
[131] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

quotation which he saw first in a scrap of 
newspaper, which declared, "A merry 
heart doeth good like a medicine." That 
must have been done in those sad days 
when the darkness was still upon him. 

How little has the world yet appreciated 
the important maxim given to those who 
seek success, "to smile and smile, and smile 
again." It is a very practical and a very 
useful direction. But it may be a hypo- 
critical camouflage when it has no impor- 
tant reflex influence on the man himself. 

The same idea was expressed with seri- 
ous emphasis by Lincoln in 1858, when he 
urged the teachers of Keokuk, Iowa, to let 
the children laugh. He said that a hearty, 
natural laugh would cure many ills of man- 
kind, whether those ills were physical, 
mental, or moral. The truth and useful- 
ness of that statement it has taken science 
and religion more than a half century to 
accept. Now the study of good cheer is 
one of the major sciences. Some psycholo- 
gists contend that laughter is one of the 
[ 132] 



Lincoln and John Brown 

greatest aids to digestion and is highly 
conducive to health; therefore, Huf eland, 
physician to the King of Prussia, com- 
mended the wisdom of the ancients, who 
maintained a jester who was always pres- 
ent at their meals and whose quips and 
cranks would keep the table in a roar. 

It was an important declaration made 
by the humorous "Bob" Burdette, when 
he said that an old physician of Bellevue 
Hospital had assured him that a cheerful 
priest who visited the hospital daily "had 
cured more patients by his laughter than 
had any physician with his prescriptions." 
Burdette rated himself, in his uses of fun, 
as the "oiler-up of human machinery"; 
and good cheer and righteousness fol- 
lowed him closely, keeping ever within 
the sound of his voice. The life-giving, 
invigorating spirit of good cheer made 
Abraham Lincoln's great mind clearer 
and held him to his faith that right 
makes might, and that night is but the 
vestibule of morning. 
10 [ 133 ] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

If Lincoln was the founder, as many 
believe, of the "modern school of good 
cheer," he was a mighty benefactor of the 
buman race. The idea of heahng by sug- 
gestion, by hopeful influences, and by faith 
bas given rise to many societies, schools, 
churches, and healers, all having for their 
basic principle the healthful stimulation of 
the weak body by the use of faith — that 
is to say, cheer. Innumerable cases of the 
prevention of insanity, and some cases of 
the complete restoration of hopeless luna- 
tics, by laughter and fresh confidence are 
now known to the medical profession. 
One draught of deep, hearty laughter has 
been known to effect an immediate cure 
of such nervous disorders, especially neu- 
ralgia, hysteria, and insomnia. The doc- 
tor who smiles sincerely is two doctors in 
one. He heals through the body and he 
heals through the mind. 

When this teaching is applied to the 
eradication of immorality or the defeat of 
religious errors we are reminded of Lin- 
[ 134 ] 



Lincoln and John Brown 

coin's remark that **the devil cannot bear 
a good joke." That martyr is not going 
to recant who, on his way to the scaffold, 
can smile as he pats the head of a child. 
The beHever in the assertion that "all 
things work together for good to those 
who love God" can laugh at difficulties, 
and he will be heard and followed by a 
throng. Spurgeon said that "a good joke 
hurled at the devil and his angels is like 
a bursting bomb of Greek fire." Ridicule 
with laughter the hypocrite or evil schemer, 
and he will crouch at your feet or fly into 
self -destructive passion; but ridicule Abra- 
ham Lincoln and he lifts his clenched hand 
and smiles while he strikes. The cartoon- 
ist ever defeats the orator. People dance 
only under the impulse of cheerful music. 
These thoughts are recorded here because 
they were suggested by Abraham Lincoln 
and because they furnish a very satisfac- 
tory reason why Lincoln laughed. 

The tales of Lincoln's droll stories and 
perpetual fun making before he was 
[135] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

twenty-four years old seem to have no 
trustworthy foundation. His use of humor 
as a duty and as a weapon in debate first 
appears distinctly about the year 1836, 
when he was admitted to the bar. He was 
almost unnoticed in the legislature until he 
secured sufficient confidence to use side- 
splitting jokes in the defeat of the oppon- 
ents of righteousness. As paradoxical as 
it first may seem, joking, with Lincoln, 
was a serious matter. He had been saved 
by good cheer, and he was conscientiously 
determined to save others by the use of 
that same potent force. 

It has been said that the humanizing 
effect of his homely humor was what gave 
Lincoln a place in the hearts of mankind 
such as few others have ever held. One 
man whom I knew intimately in my boy- 
hood days was as devoted and as high 
minded, probably, as anyone who ever 
lived. He had a great influence upon the 
events of his day; some people regarded 
him as almost a saint — or at least a 
[136] 



Lincoln and John Brown 

prophet. Yet he never captured the heart 
of the people as Abraham Lincoln did, 
and to-day he is virtually forgotten. That 
man was John Brown. 

When I had my long interview with 
President Lincoln in the winter of 1864 
I told him that John Brown had been for 
a number of years in partnership with my 
father in the wool business at Springfield, 
Massachusetts, and that he was a frequent 
and intimate caller at our house. He and 
my father were closely associated in the 
antislavery movement and in the operation 
of the "underground railway" by which 
fugitive blacks were spirited across the line 
into Canada. The idea of a slave uprising 
in Virginia was discussed at our dinner 
table again and again for years before the 
Harper's Ferry raid finally took place; and 
it is altogether probable that my father 
would have shared Brown's martyrdom if 
my mother's persistent opposition had not 
defeated his natural inclination. 

John Brown had a summer place in the 
[137] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

Adirondacks, and when he left there a 
man remained behind in the old cabin to 
help the slaves escape. This was not the 
route usually followed, however. Most of 
the fugitives came up from Virginia to 
Philadelphia, from Philadelphia to New 
York, New York to Hartford, and thence 
over the line into Canada. My father's 
branch of the "underground railway" ran 
from Springfield to Bellows Falls. It was 
a common thing for our woodshed to be 
filled with negroes whom my father would 
guide at the first opportunity to the next 
"station." This was very risky work; its 
alarms darkened my boyhood and filled 
our days with fears. 

Lincoln was very much interested that 
day in what I told him about John Brown. 
He asked me many questions, but I soon 
saw that there was very fit tie he did not 
know about the subject. Finally I told 
him that while my father shared John 
Brown's opinions, my mother thought he 
was a kind of monomaniac and frequently 
[138] 



Lincoln and John Brown 

said so. At this Lincoln laughed heartily, 
but he made no verbal comment. 

Nobody could be more earnest or sincere 
than Lincoln, but he could laugh; John 
Brown could not. My earliest impression, 
as a little boy, of John Brown, was that 
he might be one of the old prophets; he 
made me think of Isaiah. He was tall and 
thin; he wore a long beard and was always 
very, very serious. He hardly ever told 
a joke. John Brown's part in the business 
partnership was to sell the wool which my 
father bought from the farmers in the sur- 
rounding territory. So Brown was the 
man in the office, with time and oppor- 
tunity for study and planning, while my 
father was out in the open, dealing with 
other men. Until they became involved 
so deeply in the antislavery movement the 
wool business prospered; the fact was that 
my father trusted Brown's business judg- 
ment as being pretty good. But in the 
end they gave up everything in the way of 
business of any sort. My father was a 
[139] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

Methodist, but I do not remember hearing 
that John Brown belonged to any church. 
The liberation of the slaves obsessed his 
mind to the exclusion of all other thoughts 
and interests. 

Brown used to drive over to our house 
two or three times a week. It was a thirty- 
mile drive from Springfield, so he had 
always to spend the night. 

I have kept the latch of the door to his 
room — the room which he always occu- 
pied. How many times he raised that 
latch in passing in and out! 

I was a little chap then and used often 
to sit on his knee and listen to his stories 
told in that solemn, deep voice, which lent 
a mysterious dignity to the most unim- 
portant tale. 

When evening came and dinner was over 
and the womenfolk were busy outside. 
Brown and my father would pull up their 
chairs to the dining table, on which a big 
lamp had been set, and talk long and 
earnestly — sometimes far into the night 
[140] 



Lincoln and John Brown 

— while they pored over maps and lists 
and memoranda. Often I would wake up, 
when it seemed that morning must be 
almost at hand, and hear John Brown's 
low, even-toned voice speaking words 
which were to me without meaning. 

Next morning, after an early breakfast, 
he would harness his horse to the buggy, 
if one of us boys had not already done it 
for him, and start on the lonely drive 
back to Springfield. 

Brown and my father had accurate 
knowledge of many facts which might con- 
tribute to the success of a slave uprising 
in Virginia. They knew how many plan- 
tations there were and how many negroes 
were owned in each county — also the num- 
ber of whites. Brown knew the names of 
the owners of the plantations and the 
means of reaching the plantations by un- 
frequented ways. He had talked this over 
with my father for years. William Lloyd 
Garrison told him it was a very foolish 
enterprise that he contemplated, and was 
[ 141 ] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

opposed to it, although he was Brown's 
int mate friend. 

It is a significant and a not generally 
known fact that John Brown actually 
believed his insurrection would succeed; 
but whether it would or not, he was 
determined sooner or later to make the 
attempt. He said, "If I die that way, I 
will do more good than by living on; and, 
anyhow, I will do it whether it succeeds 
or not." 

The last time I saw John Brown was 
when he drove out to our house before 
leaving Springfield to go to Harper's Ferry. 
My father drove him down to the station 
— to Huntingdon railroad station; they 
called it Chester Village then, but the name 
has since been changed. The last letter 
that he wrote from the prison at Charles- 
ton was to my father. It was written the 
day before his execution. 

John Brown's character was perfectly 
suited to the part he elected to play, and 
that this had a potent influence upon peo- 
[142] 



Lincoln and John Brown 

pie's minds and through them upon events 
leading up to the war cannot be denied. 
A less austere man or a man less firm in 
his own convictions would never have car- 
ried through such a mad exploit. But it 
is not a desecration of John Brown's mem- 
ory to state the simple fact that he lacked 
the quality of human understanding which 
Lincoln possessed so richly and which 
showed itself in the smile of sympathy and 
the word of good cheer. 

Before I left Washington to go back to 
my regiment I learned that the friend for 
whose life I had gone to plead had been 
pardoned by the President. The hearty 
greeting which hailed the return of that 
young soldier to his comrades was full of 
spontaneous joy, but in the background 
of the picture was the great form of Old 
Abe, the greatest saint in the calendar of 
all the soldiers. 

He was indeed, as has been often said 
before, the best friend of the whole coun- 
[143 1 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

try — the South as well as the North. 
Through all of that bitter struggle he never 
forgot that he had been elected President 
of all the United States. 

When I had a second long talk with Lin- 
coln, just shortly before he was murdered, 
not one word did he say against the South 
or against the generals of the South. He 
spoke of General Lee always in respectful 
terms. He respected the Southern army 
and the Southern people, and he estimated 
them for just about what they were worth. 
He did not underestimate their power nor 
their patriotism; not a word in that two 
hours' interview did he say against the 
Southern army or the Southern people 
vindictively; it was that of a calm states- 
man who estimated them for what they 
were worth; and whenever he mentioned 
the name of General Lee he emphasized 
the fact that Lee was fighting that war on 
a high principle, not one of vindictiveness 
or any small ambition. 

He realized that the Southern people 
[ 144 1 



Lincoln and John Brown 

were fighting for what they believed was 
right, and he knew General Lee would not 
be in it unless he was convinced it was 
right. He did not say that in words, but 
that is the impression I received. To hear 
the stories of Southern barbarities which 
would naturally be circulated about the 
enemy and then to find the President of 
the United States treating the matter with 
such dignity and calmness was a surprise 
and an enlightenment to me. 

On that black day when the body of 
Abraham Lincoln lay in state in the East 
Room of the White House it was my great 
privilege to be detailed for duty there. I 
happened to be in Washington, recovering 
from a wound sustained in the battle of 
Kenesaw Mountain a short time before, 
and I was called upon, together with all 
unattached officers in the Capitol, to help 
out. About twenty officers were con- 
tinually on duty in the room in which the 
casket stood. Two of us actually stood 
guard at a time — one at the head and one 
[145] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

at the foot. The casket was heaped high 
with flowers and the people passed through 
the room in an unending stream. 

No such grief was ever known on this 
continent. All wept, strong, hardened war- 
riors with the rest. People were heartily 
ashamed when their supply of tears ran out.' 
Some trembled as they passed through the 
door, and, once outside the room, gave 
vent to their sorrow in groans and shrieks, 
while others, in the excess of their grief, 
cursed God, as though Lincoln's death was 
an unjust punishment of him instead of a 
glorious crown of martyrdom. 

Looking back through fifty-four years — 
after the calm judgment of sages has re- 
asserted their wisdom and after all Lin- 
coln's enemies have turned to devoted 
friends — we cannot forbear the renewed 
assertion that Abraham Lincoln was in 
some special way unlike other men. That 
unusual power of inspiration was exhibited 
in his words and acts almost every day of 
his closing years. 

[ 146 ] 



Lincoln and John Brown 

Through the half century there comes 
down to us a wonderful sentence in Lin- 
coln's second inaugural address which is 
incarnate with vigorous life. Out of the 
smoke, devastation, hate, and death of a 
gigantic fratricidal war, above the con- 
tentions of parties, jealous commanders, 
and grief-benumbed mourners, clear and 
certain as a trumpet call this unlooked-for 
declaration rang out. It was the voice of 
God: 

With malice toward none, with charity for all, 
with firmness in the right as God gives us to see 
the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are 
in, to bind up the Nation's wounds, to care for him 
who shall have borne the battle and for his widow 
and his orphans, to do all which may achieve and 
cherish a just and lastijig peace among ourselves 
and with all nations. 

What a Christian spirit, what a defer- 
ence to God, what a determined purpose 
for good! What a basis for peace among 
the nations was there stated in one single 
sentence! Where in the writings of the 
gifted geniuses, ancient or modem, is 
[147] 



Why Lincoln Laughed 

another one so potent. Yet the mere dead 
words are not specially symmetrical, and 
the expression is in the language of the 
common people. The influence is that of 
the spirit; it can never die. 

His enemies mourned when he died and 
and all the world said a great soul had 
departed. But the children of his dear 
heart and brain will live on the earth for- 
ever. They will pray and teach and sac- 
rifice and fight on until all nations shall 
be the one human family which the 
prophet Lincoln so clearly foresaw. Men 
are called to special work. Men are more 
divine than material; and among the most 
trustworthy proofs of this intuitive truth 
is the continuing force of the personality 
of Abraham Lincoln. 



THE END 



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